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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26694808">Cracks in a Gilded Cage</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/floofboy/pseuds/floofboy'>floofboy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Senyuu. (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amnesia, Canon-Typical Violence, Demon Lord Alba, Everyone's Safe, M/M, Villager B Ros, in which Ros is forced to chase after Alba for once</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:54:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,837</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26694808</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/floofboy/pseuds/floofboy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sion lives a blessed life. His family is loving, his village is idyllic. He's never seen death, and never known hunger.</p><p>He should have no complaints with his life.</p><p>And yet, he can't help but feel something is <em>wrong</em>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alba Frühling/Ross | Creasion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Cracks in a Gilded Cage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by <a href="https://twitter.com/k0batos/status/1295788389292179457">this tweet</a>, which is actually about Crea and Ros but unfortunately my brain is incapable of writing anything but albatross. I apologize to all gen and crea/ros fans.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sion lives a blessed life. </p><p>His family is loving, even if they get on his nerves at times. The village is small, but they’ve never had trouble finding game in the mountains, and their crops have always brought in high yields. Perhaps due to their remote location, but monsters and bandits both have never attacked the village, and Sion has never seen death. </p><p>It’s been a little lonely since Crea and Lake set off to a far-off city, going to a proper university for a few years to bring back the knowledge to their village. But his parents are still around, and all the other adults in the village. </p><p>(And Sion is used to entertaining himself either way. </p><p>While both his brother’s best friend and his brother himself were too kind to ever chase Sion away, he’s always been able to tell when he wasn’t really wanted. </p><p>He’s always been able to tell that at times, the two didn’t <em>really </em>want someone years their younger hanging around.)</p><p>Putting all that aside though, his life truly is blessed. Apart from harvest season, some basic chores, and helping out his shitty father in the lab, he spent most of his childhood playing around. And now that he was an adult, the village was more than affluent enough to send him off to school if he so wished, just like Crea and Lake. Else, he could start building his own home and begin carving out a new place in this quiet, idyllic place. </p><p>He should be happy. He has to struggle to think of anything to complain about, and he’s quite good at that. He knows perfectly well that other villages don’t have it this easy, so really, it’d be ridiculous if he wasn’t at least satisfied. </p><p>But he wasn’t. </p><p>Sion isn’t happy.</p><p>It was better when he was younger. As a kid, it made him happy just being around his family, around Crea’s. But as he grew, so did a feeling of dissatisfaction within him. </p><p>As though Originia isn’t enough. </p><p>It isn’t as though he can’t live out a normal life. He can smile at the dinner table, nod at the other villagers as he walks past them. It’s not that difficult to maintain that level of cheer. </p><p>It’s just- </p><p>It feels like something is gnawing at his insides, trying desperately to tell him that something is wrong. </p><p>And he doesn’t know how to fix it.</p>
<hr/><p>A possible answer to his problems comes from his idiot brother, of all people.</p><p>To be fair, Sion has long since been aware that ‘idiot’ isn’t quite the accurate modifier for Lake. Still, he keeps on using it anyways, because that’s what he’s used to. </p><p>(And it makes him feel better, somehow, to call someone around him an idiot.)</p><p>Crea and Lake have returned for good, after years away at school with only the briefest visits home, and the whole village is celebrating. There’s lanterns decorating the whole village square, a couple good campfires roaring away, roasting meat and apples and more - and creating quite the tantalizing smell. </p><p>There’s also a good chunk of people dancing and singing, but Sion pointedly ignores them in an attempt to avoid being dragged in.</p><p>So Sion is sitting in the shadows, munching away at his honey-glazed apple in peace, when Lake flops down next to him with a grin. </p><p>“Hey, Sii-tan!” </p><p>Sion just sighs. </p><p>He lets himself be talked to for a while, about university, about the long journey there and back, about the things Crea and Lake have seen and learned during their years away. Giving nondescript answers seems to satisfy Lake well enough. </p><p>But then Lake asks a question- </p><p>“Are you planning to go too, Sii-tan?”</p><p>And Sion freezes. </p><p>Lake - despite his carefree aura and cheerful demeanour - has always been rather perceptive, and it’s no different then. </p><p>“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you know,” he says, “I just got back, I wanna spend some more time with my favourite little brother!”</p><p>Sion shoots him a disgusted sneer, but as expected, Lake just laughs it off. </p><p>“It’s definitely not too late, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Lake continues. </p><p>“That’s not-“ Sion cuts himself off. </p><p>Then he thinks for a moment, as Lake blinks at him with his head tilted to the side. </p><p>It… wouldn’t hurt, he supposes, to talk about how he feels. Just a little, of course. His brother may come off as clueless, but he’s surprisingly astute when it comes to a lot of things. Maybe Lake could provide some small, tiny bit of clarity. </p><p>So Sion begins talking once more. </p><p>“I don’t think leaving home would change anything,” mutters Sion. </p><p>“Change anything?” Lake echoes, sounding confused. </p><p>“I mean-” Sion hesitates, then continues, the words bursting out of him- “Nothing feels <em>right.</em>”</p><p>Lake blinks at him, eyes wide and surprised. </p><p>“Nothing feels right,” Sion says again, quieter this time, “and I don’t think going to school would change that. I-I feel like something’s wrong, that something-“</p><p>(-someone-)</p><p>“-is missing, and I just…” Sion lets his head fall into his hands in frustration. </p><p>Lake is quiet for a long moment, long enough that Sion is almost tempted to look up to gauge his expression. </p><p>But right before Sion is about to give in and just do it, Lake says, voice unreadable- “You too?”</p><p>And Sion jerks back up, eyes wide open. </p><p>Lake smiles at him, small and sad. “I never thought that you felt the same way about things.”</p><p>“Seriously?” asks Sion, still not quite believing it. </p><p>“Seriously,” Lake confirms. He leans back against his arms, gazes up towards the clear night sky. “I always felt a little uncomfortable, you know? I felt like something was off.” He hesitates, then murmurs quietly, “...That it shouldn’t have been Crea by my side.” But he quickly backtracks- “Not that Crea isn’t great! He’s the bestest best friend I could ever have. Still though…” Bitterness flashes over his face. “I’ve always felt like someone was missing.”</p><p>Sion asks, his tone just barely revealing his desperation- “How did you get past it?”</p><p>“I didn’t,” Lake says with a laugh, much to Sion’s disappointment. “I still feel the same way. But! I don’t really mind it anymore.” He shrugs. “Going to school was fun. Going on a grand journey to and from the city - that was fun too. Being with Crea is especially fun. So why does it matter if it still feels strange sometimes? I just ignore it.” </p><p>Lake turns his gaze back at Sion. “Even if you don’t wanna spend years and years at school, you can still leave the village for a bit, you know. Have you ever thought about going on a journey?”</p><p>“Course not,” Sion says dismissively, like he always does towards Crea and Lake’s excited plans for action and adventure. </p><p>(It’s a lie.)</p><p>“Maybe you should,” Lake suggests. “The village is great. I think I can live out my life here now that I’ve seen other places. But… it was <em>because</em> I saw other places that I think I can be happy now, even despite everything.”</p><p>Sion falls silent at that. </p><p>“Think it over,” says Lake, hoisting himself back to his feet. “I’m going to grab some more food.”</p>
<hr/><p>The thing is, in his heart of hearts, Sion isn’t as opposed to going on a journey as much as he always claims. </p><p>It would be something new, at least. There might be a chance, at least, that he finds something, anything, that soothes this feeling of wrongness within him. </p><p>Now that the idea has popped into his head, it sticks. He wants to do it. But at the same time… </p><p>He’s still opposed to going on a journey alone. </p><p>When he thinks of a journey for two, or three, his heart is light. He likes imagining that, likes thinking of nonsense chats over firelight and silly arguments in bedrolls. </p><p>When he thinks of a journey for one, he just feels smothered by immense grief.</p><p>Maybe he should’ve pushed things, back when Crea and Lake had set off to that far-off city. He had wanted to go, but Cecily had put her foot down and said no. </p><p><em>You’re not going anywhere, Sion</em>, she had said with a bright smile that brokered no discussion, and Sion had reluctantly listened. </p><p>Now he regrets not sneaking after Crea and Lake anyways, because there’s no one else he can go on a journey with. </p><p>Still, there’s a chance he can still get a partner for his trip. </p><p>It’s true that Lake isn’t interested in journeying anymore, as he’s said so numerous times since he’s come back home. He wants to build himself a nice house and use what he’s learned at the university to set up a flourishing orchard. </p><p>But Sion isn’t as sure with Crea.</p><p>(And somewhere inside of him, he assumes, for whatever reason, that Crea would obviously say yes if given the opportunity.)</p><p>So he asks him about it directly, full of unwarranted confidence. </p><p>Only to be gently, but firmly rejected. </p><p>“Sorry, Sii-tan,” Crea says, his smile awkward. “I’m not really interested in journeying around anymore.” He scratches a cheek, lightly blushing. “Well, I might still visit nearby villages, y’know, to see if there’s any girls that catch my eye, but… a full-on journey? That would be too much.”</p><p>Crea’s gaze is indulgent, like an older brother looking down at his precocious little sibling, and that’s wrong, that’s all wrong wrong wrong-</p><p>Feeling a lump beginning to form in his throat, Sion leaves before he does anything even <em>more </em>humiliating in front of Crea. </p><p>“I’ll still help out with your prep though!” Crea calls after him, sounding worried, but Sion pointedly ignores him. </p><p>Fine. If Sion wants to go on a journey, it’ll be a journey for one. He can do that. He still doesn’t like the idea of journeying alone, but he likes the idea of living out his life in the village forever even less. </p><p>(And the embarrassment he felt at being rejected by Crea lets him push past the rest of his compunctions.)</p><p>Even if he journeys afar, he’s not sure if he can reach the level of understanding that Lake has, especially when he’ll be journeying alone. </p><p>But he does know that he’ll never reach any understanding if he just stays here, stays in this sleepy little village for the rest of his life. He’d just live out his days, boring and uneventful, constantly feeling like something isn’t quite right. </p><p>So he’ll go on this stupid journey. For the smallest chance that he gets something out of it, as opposed to the 0% chance there is if he lets things continue the way they are. For the teeniest, tiniest chance that he manages to find happiness, of a sort. </p><p>(He just wishes he didn’t have to do it alone.)</p>
<hr/><p>His mother is probably going to be the greatest obstacle in his way if he really wants to set off on a journey. So to deal with that little problem, Sion decides to loop in his shitty father first. </p><p>Naturally, Rchimedes doesn’t care one whit.  Sion doubts he cares about anything but his fruitless research, honestly. </p><p>(Sometimes, Sion hates that watching Rchimedes throw himself into his work is one of the few things that always feels right to him.)</p><p>“Have fun,” Rchimedes says after Sion tells him of his plan, not even looking up from his desk. </p><p>Sion just scowls.</p><p>“Help me convince Mom,” he demands, slamming a hand onto Rchimedes’ desk. A few books from the teetering stacks thump down onto the ground, and that, at least, finally grabs his father’s attention. </p><p>Rchimedes looks up at Sion and pouts. “Why can’t you just tell her yourself?”</p><p>“Because I don’t feel like it,” Sion says sweetly. </p><p>Normally that would be enough, considering how weak-willed his father is. Today, however, things don’t go as easily. </p><p>“No,” Rchimedes says firmly, “I’m not going to be the one to tell your mother that her son wants to go off and be a hero.”</p><p>Sion supposes Rchimedes’ fear of Cecily must overtake his fear of his son. He clicks his tongue in disgust. </p><p>But something was odd here. </p><p>“When did I say anything about being a hero?” Sion says with a frown. </p><p>Rchimedes blinks up at him. “That wasn’t your plan?”</p><p>“Of course not.”</p><p>“...Yes, I suppose,” Rchimedes says with a snort. “I guess you never had the same dreams as Lake and Crea.”</p><p>“Yes,” Sion says mildly. “So will you convince Mom now?”</p><p>“No,” Rchimedes says again, just as firmly. </p><p>So judging that trying to convince Rchimedes with words would be too much of a pain, Sion immediately pulls Rchimedes out of his chair by the scruff. </p><p>His father yelps in pain as he does. “Wait wait wait- I’m your <em>father</em>, you know-”</p><p>Sion ignores his pathetic pleas and drags him in front of Cecily. </p><p>“Dad has something to tell you,” Sion says, throwing Rchimedes on the ground in a rather unceremonious manner. </p><p>Before either of them can react, Sion leaves the house.</p>
<hr/><p>It turns out that Cecily is a lot more amenable to Sion leaving than she was before, and by the time Sion makes his way home, Rchimedes has wrangled an approval out of her. </p><p>Cecily claims it’s because Sion is older now. Sion suspects it’s just because Lake is back now. </p><p>But whatever the reason, the point is that he’s gotten permission, and so he can really throw himself into the preparations now. Lake and Crea both help him out - Lake because Sion asks him to, and Crea because Lake drags him in despite Sion’s wishes. </p><p>He still feels humiliated by Crea’s blunt refusal to go on a journey with him, but he doesn’t let it show. Much. </p><p>(If Crea’s feet get stomped on a little more often around Sion lately, well - that’s just a coincidence.)</p><p>“We had to map a path to Capita and back for our journey,” Lake comments, running a finger along the map spread out in front of them. “But Sii-tan, you can go anywhere you’d like! Where do you want to go?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Sion says flatly, because it’s the truth. He’s going on the journey in the hopes that he’ll find some solution to his troubled feelings, not because there’s anywhere in particular he wants to go. </p><p>But then Crea suggests- “How about a sweets tour then?” </p><p>And Sion’s ears perk up despite himself. </p><p>With Crea and Lake’s help, it doesn’t take too long to plan out a journey through all the cities known for some sweet speciality or other. It’s a nice idea, and Sion is looking forwards to trying out new foods if nothing else. </p><p>But despite the prospects of new sweets, he still can’t muster up much excitement for the trip. Sion wishes he could muster up more, but the idea of setting off on a journey alone still provides him with nothing but a looming sense of despair. </p><p>It does make him consider backtracking. He didn’t need to go on a journey. There was absolutely nothing stopping him from staying home. </p><p>But he can’t help but clench onto that small hope that Lake had granted him. The idea that seeing new things might let him finally move past this feeling of wrongness permeating his life.</p><p>So Sion doesn’t backtrack. He borrows Lake’s old travelling pack and sword, patches up his old cloak, sharpens his hunting knives. He packs away a couple spare outfits - green tunics with black undershirts, long black pants. And in no time at all, the day before his departure arrives. </p><p>They have a small party that night, just with his family and Crea’s. He hadn’t really been interested in one, but Lake had insisted, and Crea had been gung-ho about it as well. So he tolerates his mother wrapping around him like a snake, and enjoys the apple tarts and delicious dinner. </p><p>He accepted the party because he figured that he could do this much when he was about to leave for months. He hadn’t expected to gain anything out of it. </p><p>So it’s quite the surprise when he does. </p><p>“Sion,” Cria - Crea’s father - says, walking up to him with a long, wrapped package in his arms. “It’s dangerous to go alone. Take this.”</p><p>Sion accepts the package. It’s obvious what it is, but still, Sion unwraps the cloth to reveal the sheathed shortsword. </p><p>Cria smiles at him. “I forged one for both Lake and Crea when they left - I thought you could use one as well.”</p><p>“Thank you, Cria-san,” Sion says, completely sincere. </p><p>And so there’s a brand-new sword at his waist when he sets off the next day.</p>
<hr/><p>Sion distastes hunting, but he’s very good at it, and he’s well aware that he couldn’t survive on this journey through foraging alone. Especially when so many things in even just the forests around Originia were poisonous - who knows what unfamiliar flora he might see as he ventures further away from his hometown?</p><p>So his plan for making money and feeding himself on his journey is to hunt, and that plan goes perfectly well for the first few days. He catches a few small animals, plucks off feathers and dries pelts in preparation for selling in town, and cooks the meat for a dull meal over a campfire. </p><p>But then his naivety rears its nasty head. </p><p>Originia, and the area surrounding it, is almost eerily peaceful. He’s heard that there’s things like “monsters” and even “demons” out there, but he’s never seen such things himself. Even Lake and Crea have said they’ve never had to face one down. </p><p>That’s why Sion lets his guard down. In fact, he’s never really internalized the reason why he needs to keep up a guard at all. </p><p>Crea and Lake, when they had journeyed out, stuck to major roads between cities. They didn’t bother trying to be self-sufficient like Sion is - the village was funding their education, and part of that was making sure they could make it to the university in the first place. </p><p>(Not to mention, the both of them have never been the greatest at hunting anyways.)</p><p>So the risk of seeing monsters or demons was relatively low. From what Sion knows, aside from occasional organized attacks on large human settlements, otherworldly creatures preferred to stay in the depths of the wilds. Away from roads and development. </p><p>Unfortunately, Sion forgets this fact, and a couple days into his journey, decides to venture deeper and deeper into the forest. He couldn’t find any game near the road, and, getting hungry, figures it wouldn’t hurt to go a little ways away from the road. He’d mark his way back with sharp notches on the trees, of course. </p><p>The last thing he expects is for an oddly-shaped creature to burst out from the trees, releasing a cute mew. </p><p>Blood draining from his face, Sion immediately turns tail and runs the other direction. </p><p>(Later, lying down safe and sound in an inn room, Sion questions that decision. </p><p>The creature hadn’t looked dangerous at first glance. It certainly <em>was -</em> Fuwalions, despite their poofy bodies and fluffy manes that made for quite the adorable appearance, were vicious and deadly. Each of their retractable claws were almost a foot long, and their tails strong enough to suffocate a man. </p><p>But Sion shouldn’t have known that, especially not when the Fuwalion had its claws retracted. He’s never seen a Fuwalion before, never even heard descriptions of them. He learns of them for the first time from the inn owner when he asks about the monster he’d seen. </p><p>And yet he’d known immediately that he needed to run.)</p><p>Sion can run fast, but even with an adrenaline rush it’s tough making his way through the brush - the creature is clearly keeping up easily. Expression grim, he reaches down towards the sword at his waist. </p><p>He can’t outrun this monster. He’s going to have to stand his ground. </p><p>Like everyone in the village, he’s had some basic swordsmanship lessons. However, also like everyone in the village, he’s never actually had to use any of those lessons in real life. </p><p>But just as he begins drawing his sword, there’s a loud thump, then a loud, screeching yowl reverberates through the air. </p><p>He can’t hear pawsteps at his heels any longer. </p><p>Sion stutters to a stop and glances back, only to be faced with a shocking sight. </p><p>The monster is dead, dying, a gigantic branch pierced through its torso. Sion had looked back just in time to see it dissipate into crystal fragments into the air. </p><p>The branch thumps onto the ground once the monster disappears entirely. </p><p>…That was incredibly lucky. </p><p>Deciding not to push his luck any longer, Sion gets to work on finding his way back to the road.</p>
<hr/><p>Thankfully, Sion isn’t too far from his current destination - a midsized town, the closest to Originia - so he finds himself safe and sound in its walls not too long after his brush with death. </p><p>He takes the time to recuperate, and that, of course, means sweets - the pelts and feathers he barters off give him more than enough to indulge in his little pleasure. And so after he reserves an inn room for the next few nights, he wanders around visiting every dessert or sweets shop he can find. </p><p>It’s an idyllic town. Sion has been here many times to barter off goods and purchase supplies, but he’s never taken the time to just relax and do nothing here. It’s not bad, actually exploring every inch of the town for the first time. </p><p>This town seems to focus on pears. Pear tarts, pear pies, roast pears on sticks. It’s tasty enough - Sion will never say no to sugar. But he has to admit it’s a little lonely, sitting alone at café tables. </p><p>(And he’s hit with a hollow emptiness when he gets his pear tart, piping hot and looking delicious, and yet somehow still lacking to him.)</p><p>Still, regardless, it’s a fun enough time in the town. </p><p>Until he awakens on his third night there to the sound of piercing screams. </p><p>Sion - a relatively light sleeper - immediately rolls out of bed and snatches up his sword, still in its sheath. The sounds are coming from the outside, so Sion slides up against the wall towards the window, then peers out cautiously. </p><p>It’s still the middle of the night, but the lampposts light the streets dimly. Sion can make out people screaming and running down the streets, out from their houses, but he can’t seem to figure out what they’re running <em>from</em>. </p><p>So slinging his sword onto his back, he slides open his window with a clatter, jumps out from the windowsill, and finally lands himself roughly on the cobblestone below. </p><p>Then, he grabs the arm of a townsperson as she flees past him. </p><p>“What’s going on?” Sion demands. </p><p>“D-demon! Demon attack!” stammers out the townsperson, voice high and panicked. “You should run too!”</p><p>The townsperson roughly shakes Sion’s hand off of her arm and rushes away. </p><p>A demon?</p><p>Sion has only ever heard of such things from disjointed stories and myths. He’s never seen one in real life, or even heard stories of them from firsthand sources. </p><p>He gazes into the distance, towards the murky darkness that everyone is fleeing away from. </p><p>And when he says everyone, he means <em>everyone. </em>He sees even guards running away, and so Sion can’t help but click his tongue in disgust. </p><p>Then he draws his sword and strides ahead. </p><p>He doesn’t know if he can do much, if even the guards are fleeing away. It wasn’t as though he even managed to defeat the monster he ran into some days back. </p><p>But fleeing without even <em>trying</em> to do something first doesn’t feel right. </p><p>As he ventures further down the road, he eventually spots shocking sparkles of light, and a figure standing in the midst of the dazzling spectacle. The townspeople’s screams reach a higher pitch. </p><p>That seems to be the source of the trouble. </p><p>Then, ignoring the fleeing townspeople around him, he readies his sword and cautiously makes his way towards the figure. As he draws nearer, he can make out more details - the figure is awfully short, almost like a child. </p><p>And when he stops a few metres away, he sees it <em>does </em>seem to be a child - a boy, maybe ten to twelve years of age, hair a bright turquoise that shines with colour whenever the boy releases more sparks into the air. </p><p>(Throwing sparks into the air in itself should frighten Sion, horrify him. It certainly isn’t anything a normal human could do. </p><p>And yet, he feels no such fear facing down this boy with his strange powers.)</p><p>The boy seems distracted making his little light show, even though there’s no townspeople around to see it anymore. They’ve all fled away at this point. </p><p>So Sion demands loudly, pointing his sword at the boy- “What are you doing?”</p><p>The boy jolts, the sparks flying from his hands flickering out and dying. He turns his gaze back forwards in confusion. </p><p>Then, bizarrely, fear trickles into his expression. </p><p>“I-I-“ stammers the boy, then swallows loudly, weakly bringing his arms up to aim at Sion. “I-I’m a demon!” Sparks flicker out from his hands for the briefest moment. “You should run if you don’t want to die!”</p><p>Sion just blinks at him. </p><p>(His eyes land on the boy’s hands, at the power emanating from it, and something clicks inside of him.)</p><p>“Die,” Sion echoes skeptically. </p><p>The boy nods rapidly, eyes narrowing. The sparks increase, enveloping his hands in red and white and more, giving his face an eerie glow. </p><p>“I’ll- I’ll burn you to death!” the boy squeaks courageously. </p><p>Sion raises an eyebrow, and, with a roll of his eyes, slides his sword back into its sheath. </p><p>What utter nonsense.</p><p>Sion takes a step forwards. </p><p>“What, what are you doing?” demands the boy. “Do you want to die?”</p><p>“Die from what?” Sion asks dryly, continuing forwards without fear. </p><p>The boy stumbles back a step, but it’s easy to catch up by increasing his pace a bit, and so with one more step, two, Sion’s within grabbing distance of the boy-</p><p>And he grabs down onto the boy’s hands. </p><p>“You’re gonna kill me with magic that makes pretty lights?” Sion asks, mouth twitching up into an amused smile. </p><p>The sparks - bright and pretty, but nothing more - fizzle out and die. </p><p>The boy is pasty white now as he stares up at Sion. “How did you know?”</p><p>Sion opens his mouth, then closes it, his brows furrowing. </p><p>How… did he know?</p><p>The boy frowns. “Are you a demon too?” </p><p>“Who cares,” Sion says, still feeling a little strange but knowing what he has to do regardless. “Just spit out what you’re doing here.”</p><p>The boy, even in his fright, looks a little petulant. But a sharp glare from Sion gets him talking. </p><p>“We’re just playing,” the boy complains. “It’s <em>boring </em>in the Demon World. They say the Demon Lord will get us if we're bad, but as if I believe that! We wanted to explore!”</p><p>“Scaring humans ain’t gonna solve your boredom problem,” says Sion, voice flat. “It’s just gonna get everyone pissed at you - I bet especially your parents.” Then he frowns. “Wait, we? There’s more of you here?”</p><p>“Yeah, my big sis is-”</p><p>Sion doesn’t catch the end of the sentence, because his attention is drawn towards the overwhelming, stabbing pain in his abdomen. </p><p>There’s something sharp, cold, transparent - ice? - stabbed right through him. </p><p>He collapses. </p><p>“Mister!” he hears the boy scream.</p><p>“Are you alright, Schnee?!” comes a voice somewhere near him. It sounds female, Sion dully notes, trying to distract himself from the pain. </p><p>“What are you doing?!” the boy cries out, audibly panicked. Through blurry eyes, Sion sees him go down to his knees, reach for the spike pierced through Sion’s stomach-</p><p>“Don’t,” Sion says weakly, mustering up all the strength he has left. “If you… pull it out… the blood loss…”</p><p>“But, mister…” </p><p>What should he do. What <em>could </em>he do?</p><p>He was a moron. How could he had let his guard down like that? He should’ve easily sensed the mana from someone else approaching, or at least sensed the spell being formed. This peaceful life has dulled his senses even more than his life with...</p><p>With…</p><p>What… what was going on? </p><p>Sion doesn’t even understand his own thoughts anymore. Was this a side effect of the pain?</p><p>“G-get away from him,” the female voice says, sounding equally panicked. “I need to finish the job.”</p><p>“What? No! We need to heal him before it’s too late!” the boy snaps. Sion feels him move to cover him, protect him. </p><p>A tiny boy, trying to protect him. Sion feels bitter. </p><p>“It’s already too late, don’t you get it?! If we destroy the evidence before Lord Alba gets here, then maybe we can still get out of this okay!” </p><p>“You’re right that it’s too late,” comes a deathly cold voice from behind them. </p><p>It’s an unfamiliar voice, sounding male. Sion is certain he’s never heard the voice before in his life - if you asked him to place a face to the voice, he couldn’t. </p><p>And yet…</p><p>At the same time, the unfamiliar voice sounds oh-so-achingly <em>familiar. </em></p><p>“L-Lord- Lord Alba…” the female voice stammers out. </p><p>There’s a hand placed lightly on his back, and almost immediately, he’s enveloped by a soft, comfortable warmness. </p><p>The pain begins to fade. </p><p>“Is the mister gonna be okay?” the boy asks worriedly. </p><p>“He’ll be fine,” the man - Alba? - says gently. Then his voice hardens once more. “But I can’t say the same for your sister.”</p><p>“Lord Alba, please forgive me-” </p><p>The pain almost completely gone now, Sion hoists himself back onto his feet and surveys the situation. </p><p>An older girl, pale and shaking, standing a few paces away - her hair as turquoise as the frightened boy behind him. This must be the sister. </p><p>A man in front of him, back turned. His cape black and torn, hair golden brown and cut a little above shoulder-length. This must be “Lord Alba”.</p><p>(Sion wants so desperately to see his face, for this Alba to turn his gaze back at him.</p><p>The feeling is disconcerting.)</p><p>“-You almost killed R- a human,” Alba says, tone utterly unforgiving. “Coming to the Human World to play around and frighten humans is bad enough - and then you actually harm one?”</p><p>“Please, I just thought my brother was in trouble-”</p><p>“Did you really? Or were you just looking for an excuse?” demands Alba, “This man’s sword is sheathed.”</p><p>The girl bites her lip for a moment, then turns her gaze to the ground. </p><p>“I didn’t notice that,” she says quietly, “I just saw him- walk up to Schnee- and my mind went blank-”</p><p>Alba holds up a hand. His expression must be quite dangerous, because the girl slams her mouth shut immediately, paling once more. </p><p>“You come to the Human World, terrorize townspeople, then decide to murder at the first sign of resistance?” he says, voice chilly. “Don’t tell me this man isn’t the only one you’ve harmed.”</p><p>The girl seems too frightened to answer. </p><p>“Is he not?” Alba demands again, “Tell me now. It’ll only be worse for you if I can’t get to them fast enough to heal them.”</p><p>The threat of punishment seems to finally break through to the girl, because she shakes her head rapidly.  </p><p>“I didn’t attack anyone else,” she says hurriedly, “I promise!”</p><p>“That’s something at least,” mutters Alba, “But what you’ve said… what you’ve done today… it’s not something I can just ignore.”</p><p>“It’s my fault, Demon Lord,” the boy cuts in, sounding panicked. “I said I wanted to go to the Human World!”</p><p>“And you’ll face punishment as well for that,” Alba says coolly, “But your crime is far removed from the crime of actually harming a human.”</p><p>The Demon Lord in front of him is emanating quite the murderous aura. </p><p>So Sion thinks he’s heard enough. Without even a moment of hesitation, his hand reaches out and grips tight onto Alba’s arm. </p><p>“I do believe that’s enough, Demon Lord,” Sion says. </p><p>The polite speech falls easily from his lips despite the fact that he’s never spoken politely in his life. <em>Demon Lord-san</em> still doesn’t sound quite right to his ears, but it sounds better than any alternative he can think of. </p><p>Alba turns towards him, Sion getting a good look at the man’s face for the first time. </p><p>His mouth goes dry. </p><p>It isn’t as though the Demon Lord is some ethereal beauty. Far from it, in fact. The man’s face is utterly plebeian. An average face, the only things of note his eyes - both red, shining bright. There’s deep bags under his eyes, so it isn’t as though the Demon Lord looks particularly healthy either. </p><p>And yet, a torrent of affection and adoration towards this man overwhelms him - almost enough to make him take a cautious step back. Was this magic? Some kind of a charisma spell?</p><p>If so, he should try to break it, and the best way to do that would probably be to give in to his other desires bubbling under the surface and-</p><p>Sion jabs a foot into Alba’s ankle, and Alba yelps appropriately. The murderous aura shrouding the man dissipates immediately.  </p><p>(His bizarre feelings of affection towards the man don’t, unfortunately.)</p><p>“Do you enjoy making little children quiver in fear?” Sion sneers. “How disgusting.”</p><p>“Wha- they were terrorizing people!” Alba objects, petulance rising in his voice. “You did nothing, but she almost killed you!”</p><p>“She’s a kid, and you know that,” Sion says flatly, turning his gaze towards the frightened girl. “Certainly, she needs to face consequences, but she can still learn and make amends.” He shrugs. “Neither of them have done anything that has caused permanent harm just yet.” </p><p>Alba is quiet for a long moment. </p><p>“...Yeah,” Alba says finally. “You’re right.” He lets out a loud sigh, then addresses the two children. “You two. We’re going back to the Demon World, and you’re going to be making amends for a long while. You’ve done something very bad, after all. But I’m not going to <em>kill </em>you.” Running a hand through his hair, he sighs again. “I’m sorry for making it seem that way.”</p><p>Murderous aura gone or not, the two children still seem quite frightened. Both of them nod obediently. </p><p>Then the boy - who seems to have more courage left than his sister - asks cautiously, “Mister, so you’re a demon after all?”</p><p>“What?” the girl says, sounding horrified. “No way! He doesn’t have mana! I can sense that fine.”</p><p>“But he has red eyes,” objects the boy. “And he seems close with the Demon Lord.”</p><p><em>What makes you think that? </em>is what Sion is about to ask, but then he realizes what exactly made the boy make his assumptions. </p><p>Sion and Alba are standing ridiculously close, basically pressed into each other. He has no clue when it happened. So he immediately jumps back, putting a good few steps of distance between him and the Demon Lord he has a discomforting amount of comfort with.</p><p>It seems like Alba hadn’t realized how close they had been standing either, because the Demon Lord, scourge of mankind, is flushing bright red. </p><p>(It’s cute. Sion feels unsettled that he thinks it’s cute.)</p><p>“This man is human,” Alba says firmly, “And he doesn’t know me.” He coughs, turning his gaze back to Sion. “I’d usually erase your memories of everything, but I think you deserve to remember what happened to you.” He bows deeply. “I’m really sorry for what you went through today. I promise you that these two will face appropriate consequences.”</p><p>Sion stares down blankly at Alba’s head. </p><p>Would a man who blushed at being pressed into Sion’s side, a man who was bowing so deeply in apology now, cast a spell to increase his charisma? Would he cast a spell to create such strong feelings of affection in Sion? </p><p>And it wasn’t just the affection he felt that was disquieting. </p><p>Alba didn’t feel wrong to him. Just like Rchimedes didn’t. Alba felt absolutely, unequivocally, <em>right. </em></p><p>Was it even possible to cast a spell to make someone feel ‘right’?</p><p>The way Alba had phrased things just now, the ability that he has just revealed - it raises a small, horrifying suspicion in Sion’s mind. </p><p>“Demon Lord.”</p><p>Alba straightens back up. “Um, yeah?”</p><p>“You can erase memories?”</p><p>“Ah, yeah,” Alba says with a nod. “I try to keep us hidden from humans, after all.” he trails off into a mumble, “Though I guess that’s not going too well…”</p><p>“You said that I didn’t know you.”</p><p>Alba blinks in confusion. “Because you don’t.”</p><p>“I don’t,” Sion says agreeably. “But why didn’t you say that <em>you </em>didn’t know <em>me</em>?”</p><p>It seems the Demon Lord is quite terrible at deception, because he visibly pales at Sion’s question. </p><p>“i just decided to say it that way,” Alba hedges, “It doesn’t mean anything.” He coughs loudly. “Anyways, have a good evening, goodbye!”</p><p>Before Sion can even react, Alba has grabbed the two children and jumped into a bizarre hole that pops open midair. The hole slams shut before Sion can even get close. </p><p>Sion is left alone in the middle of the street. </p><p>(The aching loneliness that assaults him is overwhelming.</p><p>He wants to see that Demon Lord again, and he doesn’t even know why.)</p>
<hr/><p>Sion’s mind is a confused mess. </p><p>Demons. </p><p>He drudges up what little knows of them. </p><p>They were called intelligent monsters. It was said they took the form of humans to deceive them into trusting them, to lure them into their lairs and eat them alive. Others claimed demons were uninterested in human prey - they attacked humans merely for the pleasure of the hunt. </p><p>The Demon Lord was supposed to be the top of the food chain, the one who controlled both demons and monsters with an iron fist. They supposedly desired to obtain the human world for their own, and sent out demonic soldiers to raid villages for that aim. </p><p>...None of those stories seem accurate, even from his single brief encounter with the demons. </p><p>Red eyes. That demon boy had thought that Sion was a demon because he had red eyes. </p><p>All three demons he met had red eyes. The small demon boy, the demon girl, and even the Demon Lord himself. </p><p>Red eyes, like Sion’s entire family. </p><p>Sion grits his teeth. </p><p>No. That didn’t mean anything, not necessarily. Red eyes were rare, but it wasn’t like they were never seen. Sion has spotted a villager or two with red eyes before. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions. </p><p>But- his feelings. Lake’s feelings. The way that apparently they both felt that something was <em>wrong. </em></p><p>(The feeling of rightness around Alba, the affection and care and the burning desire to stay by his side-)</p><p>You could erase memories, but you couldn’t erase feelings. Wasn’t that a classic trope in olden tales of heroes and demons and sorcerers? </p><p>Did he even grow up in Originia? Did Lake? If you could erase memories with magic, who was to say you couldn’t modify them?</p><p>...No. He wouldn’t be able to trust anything if he doubted everything in his life. </p><p>Besides, he cares for the other adults in the village, Cria, Bellin, Yale, and more - they’ve been kind to him and his family for as long as he can remember. If false memories couldn’t affect feelings, then he shouldn’t feel that way.  </p><p>And above all, he cares for Crea. He knows he does. </p><p>So he’ll proceed under the assumption that he’s not a demon, and the memories he still has at least are true. </p><p>So what about the memories he doesn’t have?</p><p>He wracks his brain, but he can’t find any gaping holes in his memory, any years that are unaccounted for. </p><p>But his life in Originia changed little between years, and his memories of exact events and timelines blurry. Who was to say that someone hadn’t just pasted over his memories of one year onto another?</p><p>“Ugh.”</p><p>He didn’t have enough information. Not about magic, not about demons, and not even about his own memories. </p><p>And to get that information, well - who better than the Demon Lord himself?</p><p>(Though… for whatever reason, he feels incredibly sour being the one chasing after Alba.</p><p>Unfortunately, he doesn’t have much other choice.)</p><p>So chasing after the Demon Lord it is.</p>
<hr/><p>Sion sets off the next morning to Studian, the country’s largest research and library hub. </p><p>There’s not much information about monsters and demons out there, and the little there is seems to be rather inaccurate. He isn’t expecting much from books and scrolls on the subject. </p><p>However, there is one particular type of information relating to demons that <em>could </em>be relied upon. </p><p>Attacks. </p><p>It was mandatory for all demon and monster attacks to be reported to the capital, with as much detail as possible. The idea was to compile a comprehensive list of monsters and the techniques to deal with them, as well as to send aid to villages suffering after a monster attack or two. </p><p>All this information should be recorded somewhere in Studian. </p><p>What Sion wants to know is when and where demons have attacked in the past. If he can somehow find a pattern… then he can get to the site of a demon attack ahead of time. </p><p>And considering the way the Demon Lord had acted during the last attack, Alba should eventually show up to stop it. </p><p>It was a fine enough plan in his humble opinion, and it goes well enough at first. After a rather uneventful journey to Studian, he searches around for the library that holds the records of past demon or monster attacks. It only takes him a couple days to track it down. </p><p>Unfortunately, he runs into a blocker when he tries actually getting <em>into </em>the library. </p><p>“One hundred gold coins,” says the bored clerk. She lets out a yawn. </p><p>“Sorry?” Sion says incredulously. </p><p>“One hundred gold coins,” the clerk repeats, sounding a bit annoyed now. “If you’d like to enter the library for a quarter-bell.”</p><p>“That’s insane,” says Sion, voice going flat. </p><p>A family of four could live off of less than a single gold coin a month. And this clerk was asking for a <em>hundred? </em>For just a quarter-bell’s time? </p><p>In cities and the larger towns, the bells typically rang twelve times between sunrise and sunset. A quarter-bell was no time at all. </p><p>The clerk just sneers at him. </p><p>“Shoo if you don’t have the money,” she says dismissively. “This place isn’t for penniless serfs from backwoods villages.”</p><p>Sion can hear other visitors in the lobby snickering around him. </p><p>The blood rushes to his head in an instant, and he <em>slams </em>a foot into the shitty clerk’s desk. </p><p>“Alright,” he says, voice sweet and smile sweeter. “I’ll come back when I have the money.”</p><p>Then he storms out of the building.</p>
<hr/><p>Sion probably shouldn’t have kicked that desk - both because his foot now aches and because they might now refuse service to him in the future - but it had just pissed him off so much. </p><p>A hundred gold coins. </p><p>It would take him years to save up that kind of money from selling pelts and feathers. That wasn’t an option. </p><p>But considering he was in a big city now, there was another option - monster hunting. </p><p>Monster hunting was a deadly profession that few were willing to do. Because of that, however, it also paid extremely well. </p><p>As cities expand and people travel to and fro, there’s always the fear of monsters leaving their territories and entering human-settled land. Soldiers and guards are expensive, and the government prefers not to lose them to unending monster battles. So nobles and merchants instead offer hefty rewards for (cheap and disposable) mercenaries to go off and cull the population. </p><p>Sion thinks he can manage that. </p><p>While he hasn’t run into any monsters since that incident with the Fuwalion, he has run into the more dangerous wild animals here and there - and he hasn’t had any issues fighting them. </p><p>He’d start off small, of course. Sion wasn’t going to take unnecessary risks. Slimes were a nuisance and a little difficult for the average person to defeat, but they should be simple enough for anyone with some training. He’ll start with that. </p><p>Plus, since they were so easy to kill, the reward is meagre - so mercenaries tend to avoid slime extermination requests. But they still needed to be dealt with. </p><p>Sion would be killing two birds with one stone - he’d get some basic monster-killing practice, and he’d solve a monster problem that no one else was willing to take on. </p><p>So Sion goes and grabs a couple of the slime extermination requests from the central plaza’s message board. Both requests are from the town mayor - they’re to cut down the slime population in key locations on the road from Studian to Capita. The reward would be granted to the holder of the request paper upon verification that the slime populations in those areas had been adequately culled. </p><p>Simple enough requests. </p><p>He heads off to the first location that afternoon - he figures that it’s close enough for him to finish things off by dinnertime. </p><p>Things don’t go the way he expects.</p><p>(Though he supposes he should be expecting that at this point.)</p>
<hr/><p>The first location is an underground cave, with an entrance located in the grassy fields surrounding Studian. The slimes apparently mostly kept to themselves in their cave, but a brave few ventured out further to attack travellers and townspeople. </p><p>Sion easily defeats the slimes he spots in the area near the cave, and their locations help him pinpoint the exact cave entrance. The cave seems to be unsurprisingly pitch black, but that’s easily solved by the torch Sion has brought along. Flaming torch in one hand, sword in the other, Sion cautiously makes his way into the cave. </p><p>It’s a bit of a learning curve - fighting with a torch in one hand - but slimes are easy enough to defeat. Sion gets the hang of it soon enough. It helps that the slimes glow when they’re defeated, each particle dissipating into the air sparkling brightly.  </p><p>Move ahead, defeat slimes, burn a line on the wall, repeat. The caves seem to just go on and on, so by the time his stomach starts growling, Sion decides to head back to the city. He thinks he’s exterminated enough slimes to fulfill the terms of the request at least. </p><p>Sion has no trouble tracing back his path with the marks he’s left on the walls, at least at first. But eventually, there’s no more marks. </p><p>And the cave entrance is nowhere to be seen. </p><p>Frowning, Sion carefully examines the walls around him. Maybe he’s missing something, maybe he had burnt the mark higher or lower than he usually did. </p><p>And as he runs his hands against the wall, he feels the texture change abruptly - from cool, textured stone to soft, squishy-</p><p>Sion tries to jerk back, but it’s too late. His hand is sucked into the wall and the rest of his body soon follows. He’s surrounded by cold slime and can’t see a thing - he does his best not to breathe it in, but it still sneaks in and he <em>chokes- </em>it’s disgusting, he’s suffocating, he’s struggling but he can’t escape-</p><p>Was he going to die like this?</p><p>Fighting some stupid mutated giant slime?</p><p>Sion would laugh if he could. What an idiotic way to go. </p><p>But just when he’s almost resigned himself, the slime surrounding him disappears, and he finds himself slamming painfully onto hard stone. </p><p>(He thinks he feels a rib crack.)</p><p>He coughs heavily onto the ground, hacking out the repulsively bitter slime that’s slipped down his throat, and rubs at his eyes, trying to clear away the slime. His eyes are still blurry, but he manages to clear them enough to make out dim sunlight. </p><p>But then there’s a gentle tap on his back, and a familiar warmth surrounds him. His ribs don’t hurt, his vision is clear, the taste of slime in his mouth is gone-</p><p>He whips around immediately, but no one is there. </p><p>It doesn’t really matter though. </p><p>(He knows that warmth<em>.</em>)</p>
<hr/><p>Sion had assumed that the Demon Lord had shown up during the demon attack because of the demons. </p><p>It was a more than reasonable assumption. Why else would Alba have shown up then and there? Sion would imagine the Demon Lord isn’t the type to go randomly traipsing around the human settlements. </p><p>Except now there’s an alternative answer. </p><p>The Demon Lord had been there for him. </p><p>That Fuwalion, dying by chance from a fallen branch. The Demon Lord, coincidentally showing up to deal with a pair of demon children. And now this. Mysteriously saved, and mysteriously healed. </p><p>Once was chance, twice was coincidence - thrice was conspiracy. </p><p>How far back did this go? Peaceful Originia, no monster attacks, not even any wild animal attacks - was that all due to Alba’s efforts as well?</p><p>As Sion goes to collect his meagre reward money for the slime extermination, he plots. </p><p>(They don’t believe him about the giant slime, and won’t pay him any more for it - but something in his desperate insistence must get through to the mayor’s aide, because she promises to send off a squad of soldiers to investigate the other slime breeding spots. </p><p>Sion doesn’t want anyone else to be caught like he was.)</p><p>If Sion really was being followed around by a Demon Lord trying to protect him, then putting himself in carefully planned danger would be a better plan than trying to predict demon attacks. </p><p>So he peers at the message board and looks for the best request to pick up for his purposes. He needed something in the open - so Alba wouldn’t be able to hide - something he could run away from - in case this truly was all coincidence - and something that wouldn’t cause much trouble if the request wasn’t fulfilled. </p><p>In the end, there’s only one request that fulfills those requirements. </p><p>A pack of Gorozarus have taken over a favoured picnic spot in a nearby village. Gorozarus are monkeys who enjoy claiming small territories for their own to laze about in. The main danger these monkeys pose are the magical balls of fire they throw at anyone who dares enter their territory.  </p><p>That being said, they never venture out from their territory, and are too lazy to chase after anyone who left their view. </p><p>It was perfect. </p><p>Or well, it was supposed to be. </p><p>But Sion has been running around these grassy hills, dodging fireballs from these annoying little monkeys for quite a while now, and there’s no Demon Lord in sight. </p><p>Then he realizes his mistake. </p><p>He’s not getting hurt. </p><p>He’s pretty good at dodging, and he’s keeping a safe distance away from the monkeys. The fire they throw seems to be magic, and dissipates soon after it lands, so he doesn’t really have to watch his step for flames either. </p><p>Why would the Demon Lord feel the need to intervene?</p><p>After taking a moment to consider the issue, Sion lets a fireball graze his side. A stinging pain shoots through his body, but it’s far from intolerable. Still, Sion lets out a loud yelp and trips to the ground, rolling down the grassy hill until he comes to a stop at the base. </p><p>Then he stops moving. The hill blocks the monkeys' view of him - he should be safe from any new fireballs. So he lies there, covered in grass stains and side still stinging, and pretends to be unconscious.</p><p>It’s a shot in the dark. Even if Alba really is protecting him, it’s possible that whatever he’s using to keep track of him is only triggered when he’s in actual peril.  </p><p>So he has to hold back a satisfied laugh when not moments later, he hears footsteps approaching. He keeps his ears carefully perked, and takes in the sound of steps stopping in front of him, the soft sound of breathing, and-</p><p>Blinking his eyes open, Sion whips out his arm and clenches tight around an ankle. </p><p>“Wha-?!” exclaims that unfamiliar, yet familiar voice. </p><p>Sion smiles up towards the sound. </p><p>“Got you,” he says sweetly, then tugs Alba to the ground. </p><p>The man falls on top of him with a loud yelp, Sion grunting on impact. This Demon Lord is heavier than expected. </p><p>Sion gets a noseful of Alba’s hair before the other man adjusts himself, and the brief thought that crosses his mind - <em>smells nice </em>- makes him desperately want to punch Alba in the stomach. Unfortunately, their current position would make that rather difficult, so Alba is spared for now.</p><p>Before Alba can run away, Sion rolls them over and pins him tight against the grass. </p><p>(He ignores the ache from his burn. There’s more important things to do right now.)</p><p>“Hello, Demon Lord,” Sion says brightly. </p><p>Alba still looks shocked, mouth open and closing in quick succession but no sound passing though his lips. </p><p>Sion continues, “I have some questions for you.”</p><p>Alba seems to compose himself a little - finally - and averts his gaze. </p><p>“Could you let me go first?” he asks weakly. </p><p>“No,” Sion says flatly. “I wouldn’t want you to leave my company early, after all.”</p><p>Alba remains silent. </p><p>“So, first question!” Sion exclaims, smile sunny. “How do you know me?”</p><p>“...What makes you think I know you?”</p><p>“Then, second question-” continues Sion, “-why are you protecting me?”</p><p>“...Am I?”</p><p>Sion’s eyes narrow. He leans in a little, forces their eyes to meet. </p><p>(Alba flushes bright red as Sion draws near, and Sion has to struggle not to react in a similar way.)</p><p>“We won’t get anywhere if you refuse to admit the obvious,” Sion says coldly. </p><p>Alba opens his mouth, then closes it. He’s silent for a long while. </p><p>Then, at long last, he opens his mouth once more, only to say-</p><p>“I’m sorry, Ros.”</p><p>Ros?</p><p>Sion doesn’t have any time to process that little slip though, because in the next moment, he’s blown away from Alba, crashing into the hill behind them. </p><p>It doesn’t hurt though - in fact, it’s the opposite. He feels better than before, that familiar warmth surrounding him once more. </p><p>Letting loose a swear, Sion scrambles back up as quick as he can, but by the time he’s up, it’s too late. </p><p>There's no one around.</p>
<hr/><p>Sion is angry. </p><p>Who did Alba think he was? Did he think he was all high and mighty just because he was the Demon Lord now? To Sion, he’ll always be just that- that…</p><p>Sion doesn’t know what Alba has always been to him, and that just pisses him off even more. The anger he feels, the familiar affection that just won’t leave - it pushes past his discontentment at these disconnected feelings. </p><p>So he gets reckless. </p><p>There’s no reason not to, now that he has the confirmation that there’s a Demon Lord desperate to keep him safe. He wanders into dragon caves, slides his way into herds of Nisepandas, even kicks down the doors of bandit outposts. It’s really quite painful - but it helps people out, and he’s getting better at fighting. It’s not all bad. </p><p>His wallet is stuffed with coins now - mainly thanks to Alba’s efforts. He’s starting to make a name for himself as a monster hunter as well.</p><p>He does have enough to barely pay for access to that library now, but he doesn’t really see the point anymore, now that he knows the Demon Lord is always near. </p><p>(It’s just that he can’t ever meet him.)</p><p>Instead, he pays a bank to forward his gold to a branch closest to Originia, then sends off a brusque postcard to Lake telling him about it. </p><p><em>Split it between our family and Crea’s, </em>Sion tells Lake. </p><p>He leaves a return address, and he gets a response within the month. </p><p><em>Where did you get all this money?! </em>demands Lake, his handwriting much messier than usual - he must be shocked. </p><p>Sion writes back, <em>Monster fighting, </em>and doesn’t give any further clarification. </p><p>He misses his family. </p><p>(He misses Crea too, even though he isn’t his best friend to miss.)</p><p>The short exchanges he has with his brother just make his homesickness even worse. </p><p>Before he left, the nagging feeling of wrongness around him was all-too-distracting. He hadn’t spared a moment to think of how he’d feel, separated from his mother and crappy father for the first time in his life. </p><p>Now, he wants to go back. Maybe it’s childish, but he can’t help it. He wants to go drag away Rchimedes from his research to the dinner table, wants to play ball with Cecily again. </p><p>At the same time though-</p><p>He misses Alba, the man he knows yet doesn’t. He wants to see him again, hear him again. </p><p>Putting himself in danger means he can at least feel Alba around him, though he barely manages to even steal a glimpse of a black cape. </p><p>If he returns to Originia, where the biggest risk to people’s lives was tripping over their own traps in the forests… would Alba follow?</p><p>Sion doesn’t know. </p><p>So he stays in Studian, continues to take on quest after quest in the hopes that next time, next time he’ll manage to capture Alba once more. </p><p>He never succeeds. </p><p>The months pass by, and he’s lonely. He misses his family, misses Alba - and it’s really beginning to grate on Sion’s nerves. </p><p>He just wants to talk. And maybe punch him in the stomach, just a little. He thinks he’s entitled to that much after months of this nonsense. </p><p>(He just wants to be with Alba, for reasons he doesn’t recall.)</p><p>Why won’t Alba give him that?</p><p>It’s not surprising that Sion finally loses his patience. </p><p>(If Alba won’t come near him anymore, if he’d only heal him from afar…</p><p>That just means that Sion has to force his hand.)</p>
<hr/><p>There’s a large valley about an hour’s walk from Studian. If you travelled far enough west, you could make your way down to its depths through a well-used path. </p><p>Here, however, that’s not possible. It’s a sheer cliff, barely any protrusions sticking out from the walls, and it’s a long, long way down. </p><p>If you fell in, you’d die. </p><p>Sion sits at the edge of the cliff, staring down at the river flowing along at the bottom of the valley. It looks small from up here, but he knows it’s actually quite wide. </p><p>Alba almost always arrives immediately when Sion is - or seems - fatally injured. Sion is certain that Alba could easily arrive within the time it would take for him to hit the ground. </p><p>He knows that, but he still needs to work up the nerve. </p><p>Sion looks down into the valley again. </p><p>It’s a long way down. If Alba didn’t come, he’d die for sure. </p><p>But…</p><p>Sion carefully gets back up on his feet. </p><p>If he jumped here, he can’t think of a way for Alba to easily keep his distance, not like when he’s fighting monsters. </p><p>He was so tired of this game of cat-and-mouse. </p><p>Alba would come. He knows that for sure. There was no danger, not really. </p><p>So he steps back a few paces, enough for a running start-</p><p>Then sprints out into the open air. </p><p>He can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut as he falls, the wind whistling by him. One moment passes, two…</p><p>The wind stops, and he feels himself pressed comfortably against a chest. </p><p>“What are you doing?!” A voice, loud, on the verge of panic. </p><p>Opening his eyes, Sion gazes up at the man carrying him, keeping them both afloat midair. </p><p>“I was clearly calling you,” Sion sneers. “Read the room.”</p><p>Alba stares down at him incredulously.</p>
<hr/><p>He must’ve given Alba quite the fright, because the man doesn’t let go of him even once they’re back on solid ground. </p><p>Sion isn’t complaining.</p><p>“R-Sion! Are you listening to me?”</p><p>“Since when have I ever listened to you?” Sion asks sweetly. </p><p>Alba grumbles something under his breath, but doesn’t try to object. It must be true then. </p><p>Sion continues, “And you can call me ‘Ros’ if you’d like.”</p><p>Alba flinches. “That wasn’t- it was just a mistake…”</p><p>“I don’t mind it,” Sion says truthfully - then his eyes narrow. “Was that my name in my past life?”</p><p>“Past life?” Alba echoes, sounding genuinely confused. </p><p>Sion frowns. Was that guess off then?</p><p>He’s had a lot of time to think over the past few months, and one theory he had started to put a lot of thought into was ‘reincarnation’. </p><p>He didn’t seem to have magic, and so he didn’t seem to be a demon. And Originia has been peaceful for as long as he can remember. If Originia’s unusual peace was also a result of Alba’s protection… when did Alba ever meet Sion? The false memories idea just didn’t add up. </p><p>That, combined with the name that had slipped from Alba’s throat - <em>Ros - </em>that felt right, despite knowing it wasn’t his-</p><p>It made him wonder about reincarnation. </p><p>But Alba, from what little he’s managed to see of him, appears to be horrible at lying and deceiving. That confusion… it must mean that his pet theory is wrong. </p><p>Now Sion is back to the drawing board. He has no idea what connection he has with this Demon Lord. </p><p>His teeth grind. </p><p>“Why can’t you just tell me who I am to you?” Sion asks, frustrated. </p><p>Guilt flashes over Alba’s face, and he falls silent for some moments. </p><p>“...You’re my everything,” Alba says finally, quietly. “I love you more than the world. All I want is for you to be happy. But I- I did something that shouldn’t be forgiven, even if you don’t know what I did.” He smiles weakly. “So you shouldn’t be by my side.”</p><p>Sion stares up at Alba for a moment. </p><p>Then he breaks out into a laughing fit. </p><p>“I’m- I’m sorry,” he chokes out between snorts. “I’m your ‘everything’? You, you,” he snickers again, “You ‘love me more than the world’?” </p><p>Alba is flushing red - he seems to do that quite often. </p><p>“You asked!” he complains. </p><p>“I didn’t expect an answer like that!” Sion snorts again. “Do you think you’re the main lead of a romance novel? Ahaha…”</p><p>“Laugh all you want,” Alba says stubbornly, “It’s still the truth.”</p><p>“It’s- it’s- ahaha, it’s still the truth…” Sion presses his face into Alba’s chest in a failed attempt to muffle his laughter. </p><p>“How was that even funny?!”</p><p>It takes a little while for Sion to compose himself, but he manages it eventually, wiping the tears from his eyes. </p><p>“Anyways, Demon Lord… you do realize the contradiction there?”</p><p>“What contradiction?” Alba asks cautiously. </p><p>“You say that all you want is for me to be happy,” says Sion, “But you're also saying I shouldn’t be by your side.” He snorts. "I've spent these past few months chasing you precisely because I wasn't."</p><p>Alba stares down at him, expression going blank. </p><p>“Demon Lord?” </p><p>That seems to shake him out of his fugue. </p><p>“No,” Alba mumbles, shaking his head. “You’re just saying that because you don’t know.”</p><p>“I don’t know what?” Sion asks impatiently. “I won’t know unless you tell me.”</p><p>In a smooth move, Alba lets Sion down onto the ground. It’s obvious he’s about to make a run for it again. </p><p>But Sion has seen this coming. Of course he has. This is far from the first time that Alba has fled away into a hole in front of Sion’s very eyes. </p><p>This time, Sion has the cliff to help him. A step, two, and Sion’s back is facing the cliff once more. If Alba tries to blow him away when he opens that strange hole, he’ll blow him right off the cliff. </p><p>Alba clicks his tongue when he notices where Sion is standing, but it seems as though it’s too late for him to back down. The hole is opening, Alba goes to slip through it-</p><p>And Sion jumps in right after him.</p>
<hr/><p>Sion tumbles to the ground, Alba breaking his fall. It seems like Alba wasn’t soft enough to absorb all the impact though, because there’s a painful ache in his ribs. </p><p>Ignoring it, Sion glances around. </p><p>They’re in a grand hall, like one you might see in a castle - porcelain flooring, and stained glass windows with simple patterns stretching up to the ceiling. The hall is large, but eerily empty - there’s no one but him and Alba here, and he suspects their voices would echo quite a bit in this silence. </p><p>Alba groans under him, face planted into the cold, hard porcelain tiles. </p><p>Sion doesn’t move off of him. In fact, he makes himself comfortable instead - he settles himself into a sitting position, right on top of Alba’s back, then crosses his legs. </p><p>Alba deserves it for trying to run again. </p><p>(Though well, he’d probably still do this even if Alba hadn’t done a thing.)</p><p>“Where are we, Demon Lord?” Sion demands. “The Demon World?”</p><p>“You can’t be here!” Alba finally chokes out, angling his face upwards. </p><p>“Clearly I can,” Sion says dismissively. “Is this part of your castle?” He sneers. “How utterly gaudy.”</p><p>Alba deflates, face turning back towards the ground. </p><p>“I didn’t design it,” Alba says, voice muffled and petulant. “Can you get off me?”</p><p>“Now, why would I do that?” asks Sion, giving him his most innocent of smiles. </p><p>Alba just sighs like he had expected that answer, then twitches a hand. A soft white light surrounds it - soon after, Sion feels that lovely warmth envelop him. </p><p>“As soon as you’re healed, I’m getting you into a suit and sending you back,” Alba tells him flatly. </p><p>“A suit?” Disgust drips from his voice. “Demon Lord, I didn’t know you had such fetishes. You should’ve really warned me beforehand...”</p><p>“Wha- it’s a suit to keep you from breaking your ribs!” exclaims Alba. “Why would it have anything to do with-“ He flushes. “With- whatever you were thinking!”</p><p>“Well, you do seem to do love caressing me all over during these little healing sessions-“</p><p>“With <em>magic!</em>”</p><p>“-and,” Sion continues doggedly, smile wide and bright. “you did say I was your everything.”</p><p>Alba falls silent, and Sion can’t stop his smile from turning a little smug. </p><p>“No comeback?” Sion asks sweetly. </p><p>He hears Alba swallow, but he still remains silent. </p><p>Sion, signing, just pushes himself down harder onto Alba’s back, forcing the other man’s body to slam back into cold porcelain. </p><p>Alba yelps in response. </p><p>“I’ll jump off a cliff again.”</p><p>“Wha-” Alba sputters. </p><p>“If that’s the only way you’ll let me see you, Demon Lord,” Sion says, voice deceptively calm, “I’ll gladly do it again.”</p><p>“You can’t-”</p><p>“I most certainly can,” sneers Sion, “Though well - do refrain from misunderstanding my intentions. I have no desire to die.” He shrugs dismissively. “I just know you’ll come.”</p><p>“...You don’t even <em>know </em>me,” Alba says helplessly. </p><p>“But I knew you, didn’t I?” asks Sion in a pointed tone. </p><p>Alba falls silent once more, and Sion clicks his tongue. </p><p>“You have two choices, Demon Lord, and only two,” Sion says sweetly, “The first - you erase any memories I currently have of you, leaving me feeling empty for the rest of my life.”</p><p>“We can’t know that…” Alba objects weakly. </p><p>“I left on a journey because something felt wrong in my life, and I didn’t know what.”</p><p>(As did Lake, but that was a question he’d leave for later.)</p><p>Sion continues, “If you erase what I know of you, you’ll simply be forcing me to live like that forever.” His eyes narrow. “And you wouldn’t want to do that, would you? Mr. <em>I Just Want You To Be Happy?</em>”</p><p>“You weren’t happy in Originia?”</p><p>Alba sounds pained, regretful. It’s music to his ears. </p><p>“...I wasn’t unhappy, I suppose,” Sion says after a moment of quiet consideration, “I was satisfied. And I miss my family, even now. But-“ he says quickly, spotting Alba perking up, “-that doesn’t change the fact that there was always that feeling of <em>wrongness</em> seeping into my life. I could ignore it, but it never disappeared, not in the slightest.” </p><p>Alba shifts a little, craning his neck to gaze up at him, expression unreadable. </p><p>“What’s this second option then?” </p><p>“I’m glad you asked, Demon Lord,” Sion says brightly. “The second option, is, of course, to stop running away, to tell me everything.” He waves a hand dismissively. “Maybe I <em>will</em> hate you when I know everything. But how can you say that without first telling me what there is to know?”</p><p>The silence continues for a long while this time. Sion doesn’t push further, however - he just waits. </p><p>And eventually, his patience is rewarded. </p><p>“Alright then,” says Alba, resigned. “I’ll tell you.”</p><p>“Good.”</p><p>Sion continues sitting. </p><p>Then there’s a cough. “So could you get off of me already?”</p><p>He considers the request, pressing down harder against Alba’s back. </p><p>A choking noise, then another cough. “Please?”</p><p>Sion <em>supposes </em>this was enough for now. </p><p>“If I must,” he says with a sigh, then slides off Alba’s back.</p>
<hr/><p>He follows Alba through grand hallways to a large sitting room, filled with plush chairs and tea tables with intricate carvings. They don’t pass by anyone on the way there, which is a bit disconcerting - did Alba live in this needlessly lavish place alone?</p><p>Once they settle down in a corner of the room, Alba claps his hands, and the table in front of them is filled with a vast array of unfamiliar sweets and pastries. </p><p>(Teapots and teacups pop up as well, but Sion is less interested in that.)</p><p>A little cautiously, Sion takes what appears to be a miniature cake in hand. There’s an odd fluffy white substance on top of it though, dotted with strange brown flakes. </p><p>He takes a small, careful bite. </p><p>Then, eyes shining, he pops the whole thing into his mouth, </p><p>“This is delicious,” Sion says, a little incredulously. He can’t quite believe it’s real. </p><p>He takes a cookie in hand next - a familiar enough shape, but with odd brown lumps in the dough - and munches down. </p><p>It’s equally amazing. Beautifully sweet, melting in his mouth- he’s never had a cookie this good. </p><p>He goes to shoot a glare at Alba. Avoiding Sion was bad enough, but this? Keeping these delicious sweets from Sion? Unforgivable. </p><p>Then he pauses, because the expression on Alba’s face is almost painfully soft. Soft, indulgent, and gazing right at Sion. </p><p>It ruins the aftertaste of the sweets, leaving a rather sour taste in his mouth. </p><p>Sion turns his gaze back towards the table. </p><p>“You don’t have the right to look at me like that, Demon Lord,” he says, voice going cold once more. </p><p>He can see Alba flinch from the corner of his eyes. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” mumbles Alba. “You’re right.”</p><p>“Well,” Sion continues, throwing him a bone. “At least not yet.” He grabs another mysterious pastry from the table, an oddly shaped spiral bread with what seemed to be icing on top. He waves it at Alba. “Go on. Tell me everything.”</p><p>He munches on the pastry - it’s delicious, to no one’s surprise - and waits. </p><p>Alba lets out a small sigh. “I’m just... trying to figure out where to start.”</p><p>“The beginning, I would imagine.”</p><p>“I don’t know where the beginning is, that’s the problem,” Alba grumbles. </p><p>“I suppose I can give you some time to think,” Sion says, exaggerated reluctance dripping from his voice. </p><p>He grabs yet another pastry.</p><p>Alba watches as he does, then frowns. “You know, R- Sion.”</p><p>“Yes?” </p><p>“You… really do trust me,” Alba says, cautiously, hesitantly. </p><p>“In a limited capacity,” Sion is quick to correct. “You’re mildly competent in some areas, after all.” He raises an eyebrow. “Was there a point to this line of questioning?”</p><p>Alba is unperturbed. “It doesn’t bother you at all to eat mysterious foods from a mysterious source?</p><p>“Oh?” Sion lets a smile play at his lips. “Is this where you tell me I now must become your husband?”</p><p>Red flushes up Alba’s face. </p><p>“Wh-“ he stammers out. “Wh-where did that come from?!”</p><p>“Isn’t that how the ancient tale goes?” Sion says, a little mocking, “The goddess of water, enthralled by the goddess of death, follows her to the Underworld. But when she learns her father is coming to force her back, she accepts the goddess of death’s offering of Underworldan food, and ties herself to the other for all of eternity.” His smile widens. “Though, I rather doubt <em>my </em>father would shed enough tears to flood the land.”</p><p>Alba, face now buried in his hands, mumbles- “It’s just normal food.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t call this ‘normal’,” Sion says mildly, “But it’s good to hear it’s not harmful.”</p><p>So he continues to snack on the sweets and pastries in silent, waiting once more. But as time ticks on by, Sion begins to lose his patience. </p><p>“Demon Lord,” Sion says, exasperation filling his voice. “If you don’t know where to start, start with yourself.”</p><p>Alba blinks at him. “Myself?”</p><p>“Who are you? What’s your story?” Sion demands. “I want to know. Start with that. Everything else can come from there.”</p><p>“I- okay,” Alba says after a moment of hesitation. He takes deep breath, then, a little more confidently- “Okay.”</p>
<hr/><p>Alba begins with the tale of a naive young man. </p><p>“I was chosen as a hero,” he says with a wry smile, “But I didn’t know what a hero was, not really.”</p><p>A legendary hero, sealed away with the Demon Lord a thousand years past. Dozens of heroes, supposedly this hero’s descendants, sent off to defeat monsters and vanquish the Demon Lord. </p><p>“We weren’t actually his descendants though,” Alba is oddly quick to say, “The legendary hero had no children.”</p><p>Then he describes, expression subdued, Soldier Ros revealing himself as the legendary hero, and the reason for the quick clarification becomes clear enough. </p><p>(He never had any children, did he? So the only one for ‘Ros’ had been Alba, hm?)</p><p>Alba looks pained as he explains how Ros sealed himself away once more, how Alba refused to accept. He talks of the year - a horrible year that felt far longer than it was - he spent apart from his soldier, wandering the land with the youngest Demon Lord. </p><p>The story moves on, Sion listening closely. An icy grip clenches around his heart at the life his other self had lived, that Alba had seen after falling into the Demon World. </p><p>Lake, his mother, both dead shortly after he was born? Rchimedes gone insane, murdering Crea and taking over his body - Sion, forced to spend his teenage years trying to defeat him?</p><p>It was a horrid fate, one he doesn’t want to accept. </p><p>(And yet he can’t help but feel it’s right.)</p><p>There’s a soft look on Alba’s face as he describes their reunion, but it soon disappears as he continues to the events afterwards - fighting Rchimedes, looking for a soul manipulator...</p><p>“We had to leave the Demon World quickly, or else we would’ve gotten affected by the mana there,” Alba explains, “But things turned out well in the end.”</p><p>Apparently, they defeat (kill, execute) Rchimedes quickly enough, and restore Crea to his body in the process. Rchi gets her parents back, and the Second returns to governing the Demon World with great care. Alba is forced into jail once more due to new magical powers, but-</p><p>“You seem to have gone to jail quite a bit during your travels,” Sion says with a shrug. “Wasn’t it like your second home at that point?”</p><p>“It was <em>not!</em>”</p><p>Except the end of the tale isn’t quite the end of the tale, because certain demons haven’t given up, and they come back for their last hurrah - this time involving Lake in their schemes. </p><p>“Lake and my mother were alive and well in the modern day?” Sion asks, confused. </p><p>“I honestly don’t know how that happened either,” admits Alba. </p><p>Lake’s soul was apparently merged with the scattered fragments of their father’s soul, creating a new demon lord. </p><p>And then, this new demon lord-</p><p>“He killed you.”</p><p>Alba’s expression is dark, his voice carefully steady. </p><p>Sion just blinks. “How did that happen?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Alba says, his face falling into his hands. “I don’t know, I found you cold and dead when I arrived in the Demon World, blood everywhere-”</p><p>Alba’s voice is beginning to sound a little broken, and so, in a rare show of sympathy, Sion leans over to rest a hand on the other man’s shoulder. </p><p>“I don’t need to know the exact details,” Sion says quietly. </p><p>“...Right,” Alba says, composing himself a little. “Right. Anyways. The point is, I lost control.”</p><p>“How so?” Sion asks, leaning back in his seat. </p><p>“I couldn’t bring you back,” Alba says bitterly. “Maybe I was too late, or maybe I was just too panicked, but none of my healing worked. Then I saw that new Demon Lord approaching, and I realized I needed to do something <em>now </em>before it was too late, and- I lost it.” He laughs humourlessly. “When I woke up, I was in Originia.”</p><p>Sion pauses. </p><p>“That’s impossible,” he finds himself saying, voice firm and confident. “No matter how much mana you have, turning the entire world back a thousand years isn’t even within the realm of possibility.”</p><p>“Well, that’s what happened,” says Alba, a little flatly. </p><p>Sion just shakes his head and frowns. This couldn’t be right. It wasn’t possible, though he couldn’t quite articulate why. And it wouldn’t explain why Sion - and Lake - both have vague inklings of the original timeline. </p><p>(But if that was so- what had actually happened?)</p><p>“It’s what I did, okay?” Alba says, voice cracking now. “Everyone was gone but you, and you were a baby. And I couldn’t change it. I couldn’t jump worlds, couldn’t turn the clock again. Nothing worked.” </p><p>“...Demon Lord...” Sion says quietly, not quite sure what to say. </p><p>“I erased a thousand years of history,” Alba says, a blank, broken smile on his face. “I didn’t mean to, but that’s what I did. But I thought - if I couldn’t fix it, then at least I could make sure that everyone around you was safe. Make sure that you had a happy life this time.” He rubs at his eyes. “Looks like I failed at that too though.”</p><p>“You didn’t erase anything, I’m sure.”</p><p>For some reason, that just makes Alba look even more wretched. “Ros wouldn’t say that.”</p><p>“He would,” Sion finds himself saying with a derisive snort, “because you’re being a moron who forgot all of his lessons. What you claim you did is impossible - the few scraps of knowledge I must still have are telling me that. There must be another explanation.”</p><p>“Then what is that explanation?” Alba asks, frustrated. </p><p>“I don’t know,” Sion says reluctantly. “But I know there has to be one.”</p><p>He feels certain about it. </p><p>(And the only thing Sion can really trust right now is his feelings.) </p><p>He continues, “If you really turned back the clock entirely, then why do I still feel the way I do?”</p><p>“I might’ve just pushed them onto you, unconsciously,” Alba points out, not unreasonably, then his gaze flicks downwards.  “Maybe that’s what I did with the demons too-“ </p><p>He cuts himself off, and Sion narrows his eyes. </p><p>“Speaking of which,” Sion says carefully, “Why are there monsters and demons?”</p><p>According to Alba’s tale, Rchimedes had been the one to create the Demon World, to populate it with demons and monsters. In a world where Sion’s father remained as nothing but a kooky researcher - why did the Demon World still exist?</p><p>“...I made them,” Alba admits, gaze still averted. </p><p>“Why would you make monsters?” Sion asks, because he can see the logic in making demons at least. </p><p>“I didn’t mean to,” Alba says for the second time that day, sounding frustrated. “But when I finally figured out how to make creatures from magic, monsters appeared instead of the demon I wanted to make.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking agitated. “I defeated as many as I could, and once I had the Demon World ready, I sent them off there… but by then it was too late. They were already a part of the ecosystem.” </p><p>“But you managed demons eventually,” Sion says curiously. </p><p>“Maybe.”</p><p>“It’s a yes or no question, Demon Lord,” says Sion, voice flat. </p><p>“Yes,” Alba amends. “But… I made a mistake. I think.” He bites his lip for a moment, then continues, “I wanted to make the Demon World again, because I thought demons deserved to live. But I thought- I thought it would be too morbid to recreate the people I knew before.”</p><p>“I suppose,” Sion says mildly, though he feels a flash of disappointment. </p><p>“But I did.”</p><p>Sion pauses. “I’m sorry, Demon Lord, did you not just say that you didn’t plan to do that?”</p><p>“I did,” Alba says, “But it just- happened.” He laughs sourly. “I can’t control anything. Another reason why you should leave.”</p><p>“Stop being so defeatist,” Sion says impatiently. “It’s not like you.” </p><p>“You don’t know me.”</p><p>Alba’s expression is bitter, deeply bitter, and it makes Sion hesitate. </p><p>He has his feelings, has a vague sense of how things should be. </p><p>But those senses, those feelings…</p><p>Aren’t they years out of date?</p><p>It’s possible that Alba has set things up so time moves differently in the Demon World. But even if that’s the case, he must’ve still spent, lived a considerable amount of time away from Sion. </p><p>So now that he has the context that he had so desperately wanted, Sion doesn’t dismiss Alba’s statement out of hand. </p><p>“You’re right,” Sion says calmly, even if it hurts. “I don’t know you anymore. <em>But-</em>“ he continues quickly, before Alba can cut in with an idiotic comment, “that doesn’t mean I can’t get to know you again.” He sneers. “Honestly.”</p><p>“There’s no guarantee that I’m not just influencing you to-”</p><p>Moving straight past Alba’s nonsense worries, Sion cuts in- “You mentioned demons earlier when you talked about that. Do they remember vaguely, just as I do?”</p><p>Alba makes a conflicted expression. “Not exactly.”</p><p>“What’s the difference then?”</p><p>“...They don’t remember ‘vaguely’,” Alba answers after a moment. </p><p>“They remember everything?” Sion asks incredulously. </p><p>“That’s what they say at least,” mumbles Alba. “But there’s nothing I can use to really verify that...”</p><p>Sion begins to say something, then decides against it. It probably wouldn’t get through to this stubborn demon lord right now anyways. </p><p>Instead, he thinks. </p><p>The demons remember everything. Lake, him - all they have are their feelings, the vague sense that something isn’t right. There’s no guarantee that others might not feel the same - that Crea, his father, his mother, they might feel as though something is off as well, somewhere deep down. </p><p>So considering all the facts laid out-</p><p>“You have a Mana Maker in your stomach, don’t you?” Sion says mildly, “Hand it over.”</p><p>“I’m sorry?”</p><p>Sion holds out his hand and smiles. “Hand it over, Demon Lord.”</p><p>Alba squeaks in fear. It’s rather amusing. </p><p>“B-but why?” </p><p>“What do Lake, I, and demons have in common, and what do we not?” Sion says impatiently. “Mana. We all had mana - only Lake and I didn’t retain ours when the world changed.”</p><p>Though, Lake and him weren’t the only ones who had mana in the world prior… but investigating whether his father or Crea remembered anything could wait until later. </p><p>“So if I gain mana once more, I may also regain my memories,” Sion concludes. He shakes his outstretched hand in a pointed manner. “So. Mana Maker.”</p><p>“...I get your logic,” Alba says slowly, “But I can’t give you my Mana Maker.”</p><p>Sion narrows his eyes. “Why not?”</p><p>Glancing to the ground, Alba mumbles something unintelligible. </p><p>“Huh?” Sion says irritably.</p><p>Alba mumbles again, a little louder this time. </p><p>“It’s melded to me.”</p><p>“It’s melded to you?” Sion echoes. </p><p>“It’s part of my body now,” Alba confirms, then after a moment of hesitation- “I’m a demon.”</p><p>Sion just blinks. “So the title <em>Demon </em>Lord wasn’t just for show.”</p><p>“That’s all you have to say?”</p><p>“I don’t-“ Sion bites his lip. </p><p>There’s so many things he wants to say, he thinks. But he doesn’t know what they are. His feelings are tumultuous, he can’t make them out. The only thing he can’t think to say is-</p><p>“My condolences.”</p><p>“...It’s alright,” Alba says quietly. Then, a beat later, he smiles brightly, though it looks rather forced. “Anyways. It just means there’s no way for you to get your mana back, so we can’t test your theory.”</p><p>“There’s no demons who can make a Mana Maker?” Sion asks. </p><p>“Of course not,” Alba says, a little regretfully. “I even did my best with the Second to recreate a Mana Maker for him, but we failed. The only person who knows how is Rchimedes- and Creasion, I guess.”</p><p>Sion’s eyes narrow. He doesn’t think Alba is lying. But at the same time, something feels… off. It feels like Alba is rushing, as though he’s trying to keep Sion from realizing something-</p><p>Ah.</p><p><em>You can’t be here! </em>Alba had said, wild and panicked. </p><p><em>We had to leave the Demon World quickly, or else we would’ve gotten affected by the mana there, </em>Alba had explained. </p><p>“I suppose it can’t be helped then,” Sion says, smiling sharply. “I’ll have to stay in the Demon World.”</p><p>Alba visibly freezes. “You can’t do that.”</p><p>“And whyever not, Demon Lord?” Sion asks sweetly. </p><p>“I- you can’t just barge in and expect to stay!” Alba blusters. “It’s rude!”</p><p>“And since when, exactly, have I cared about being rude to you?”</p><p>“Urk-“</p><p>“I’m not hearing any decent arguments against my stay,” Sion continues, “Unless, of course, you’re hiding something.” His smile brightens. “For example- the effect of the Demon World on a human body.”</p><p>“I-“ Alba’s gaze turns resigned. “You’re being ridiculous. Most likely, you’ll just turn into a monster. The chance the mana entering your body will balance itself just right to turn you into a demon… it’s almost nil.”</p><p>“You’ve repopulated this world with demons, and you’re telling me you can’t do something as measly as balance my body’s mana for me?”</p><p>“Haven’t you been listening?!” snaps Alba. “I can’t control anything!”</p><p>Sion clicks his tongue in disgust. </p><p>“You’ve made demons and created an entire world,” he says flatly. “Messing up a few times near the start doesn’t sound like a huge issue.”</p><p>Alba flushes. “Even if that's the case! There’s no guarantee that having mana will restore your memories!” He shakes his head. “This isn’t even a theory, it’s barely a hypothesis. And you’re going to risk everything on it?”</p><p>“It’s worth a shot.”</p><p>Alba’s expression darkens. Then, slowly, as though he’s saying something he doesn’t want to say-</p><p>“Don’t you miss your family?”</p><p>“<em>Huh?</em>” Sion says coldly, shooting an icy glare at Alba. </p><p>But the other man doesn’t back down. “You do, don’t you?”</p><p>“Well, yes,” Sion admits reluctantly, because he already has earlier. </p><p>“Then you haven’t thought this through!” Alba’s voice rises. “If you do this, you might never see your family again! There’s no guarantee the magic you obtain as a demon won’t affect the world around you, after all. And even if it doesn’t, you’ll still outlive them by millennia.” His face is set. “You don’t want to do this.”</p><p>“Of course I don’t.”</p><p>Confusion flashes over Alba’s face. He must’ve not expected a response like that. </p><p>But it’s the truth. </p><p>Maybe it would be different if Sion truly remembered Alba. If he had more than just these feelings tugging him desperately towards him. Hypotheticals don’t really matter though, because he doesn’t have the memories, and that’s that. </p><p>So no matter how much his emotions might tell him that he needs to be by Alba’s side-</p><p>He’s not willing to sacrifice his family for it, not with all the concrete love and memories he has of them. It far outweighs what he feels in the moment. That wasn’t to say he didn’t want to keep Alba with him if he could - but it just wasn’t worth it if it meant he lost his mother, Lake, Crea... even his shitty father. </p><p>“My my, you really are arrogant, aren’t you, Demon Lord?” Sion says with a sneer. “You talk big game about pushing me away, but in the end, you expect me to come grovel at your feet.”</p><p>“I don’t expect that!” sputters Alba. “I would never!” He frowns. “But then- if you don’t want to, why…”</p><p>“It’s not about me,” Sion says, feeling an icy calm settle over his mind. </p><p>He doesn’t like the feeling. </p><p>(He doesn’t like it, but it’s familiar, oh-so-familiar.)</p><p>Sion continues, “You don’t know how to fix the world. You don’t even know what broke it, and how, and clearly none of the demons you’ve recreated do either.” </p><p>He meets Alba’s eyes with a steady gaze. </p><p>(Alba is looking more and more horrified.)</p><p>“I was the one to teach you magic, was I not?” Sion asks. “Then who else could fix the world at this point but myself?”</p><p>“No!” Alba snaps. He looks like he’s gearing up for a rant, but Sion doesn’t let him. </p><p>“Don’t be so childish!” Sion snaps back immediately. “You may not have turned the clock back a millennium - no one should hold you accountable for that. But there’s still no doubt that you played a part in whatever did happen.” He shoots Alba a piercing glare. “So it’s your responsibility to help fix it. No matter what it takes.”</p><p>Alba opens his mouth, then closes it. </p><p>“There’s…” he shakes his head. “There might be other options. I- We can ask the Second for help too. Maybe there’s something I missed.”</p><p>The other man has surprisingly made a good point. </p><p>“You’re right,” Sion says with an awkward cough, “There’s no need to rush. It’s not like the Demon World will start affecting me right away, right?”</p><p>Alba nods quietly. </p><p>“Then fine.” Sion shrugs. “Let’s investigate first.”</p>
<hr/><p>Before they leave, Alba clears the table with another clap - which would be fine, except it also disappears the half-eaten cookie in Sion’s hand, which is mildly annoying. </p><p>Maybe Sion’s mild annoyance shows on his face, because after flashing him a small smile, Alba returns the cookie to his hand. </p><p>He gazes at the cookie contemplatively. </p><p>“Are there limits to making food out of thin air?” Sion asks. </p><p>No one in Originia has ever suffered from hunger - their crops do well and their hunting is productive. But he’s seen beggars starving in alleyways, in the bigger towns and cities. He tries to do what he can, but…</p><p>“You can’t actually make food out of thin air,” Alba says, sounding regretful. </p><p>Sion’s brows furrow. </p><p>“Then where did this come from?” he asks, waving the cookie. </p><p>“I reformed it after dispersing it into pure mana,” explains Alba, then quotes in a posh tone- “'Anything dispersed desires to return to its original form.'”</p><p>For some reason, that makes sense to Sion, and he can't help but sigh in response.</p><p>They head out of the room after that, and Sion follows Alba once more through the grand hallways of the castle. </p><p>There’s still no one around. </p><p>“Where are we going?” Sion asks. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone about.”</p><p>“To the rest of the castle,” replies Alba. “I’m the only one who lives in the eastern wing.”</p><p>Sion frowns at that. </p><p>They eventually approach a large, metal door, cutting the hallway in half. It’s obviously out of place from the rest of the decor, all sharp edges and not even a hint of aesthetic to it. </p><p>Alba knocks his hand against it. </p><p>“Hello?” he calls out. </p><p>A small window in the door slides open, revealing a pair of red eyes squinting through. </p><p>“What is it, Lord Alb- wait, that’s-?!” </p><p>The voice immediately goes high and panicked on spotting Sion standing by Alba’s side. It’s an odd voice - the cadence itself is young, but the speech style sounds oddly elderly. </p><p>“That’s what I wanted to talk about,” Alba says smoothly. “Could I come to talk with the Second?”</p><p>“...Alright,” the voice says reluctantly. “That man can come in first while I go call the Second.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Sion says brusquely, a scowl beginning to mar his face. </p><p>“Really?” the voice says, filled with doubt. “Are you sure you want to stay… there?”</p><p>“Very certain.”</p><p>“Alright,” the voice says again, still doubtful. Regardless, they slam the small window shut and presumably leave to go inform this ‘Second’ of Alba’s request. </p><p>Sion remains scowling. </p><p>“This may be a rather nice jail, Demon Lord,” he says coolly, “But I can't say I respect your jailors much.”</p><p>Confining Alba in this giant wing of the castle… it was cruelty disguised as kindness. A cell, even a nice suite - neither would’ve felt as utterly lonely as this spacious wing with its grand, empty rooms and hallways. </p><p>“I’m not- it isn’t like that,” objects Alba. “It can’t be helped.”</p><p>“Which is it, Demon Lord?” Sion demands. “It isn’t like that, or it can’t be helped?”</p><p>Alba deflates a little. “Well, both. I mean, it isn’t as though I can’t go to the Human World. That’s my job, see, to keep on eye on things and bring back any demons that’ve managed to sneak off.”</p><p>“But they won’t let you go anywhere in the Demon World.”</p><p>“It’s just- it can’t be helped,” Alba says again. Sion isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince. “I can’t control my magic sometimes, and there’s no one to teach me-“</p><p>“-What nonsense is that?” Sion cuts in. “You’re a demon now, aren’t you?”</p><p>“But my magic is mostly still hero magic,” mumbles Alba. “Apparently.”</p><p>But everyone, including Alba himself, clearly trusts his control enough to let him go to the Human World without affecting it. To make gates, to heal people, to heal Sion. </p><p>Somehow though, Sion gets the feeling that pointing that out will get him nowhere. </p><p>(It seems as though this isolation is at least partly due to a sense of masochistic self-penitence.)</p><p>So Sion just clicks his tongue. The situation is… displeasing. A thought passes over his mind - no one should be doing anything like this to Alba but him. </p><p>(The thought comes with a strong desire to take Alba into his arms and squeeze tight, but Sion dismisses the impulse easily enough.</p><p>Though he still takes a step closer to the rather mournful demon lord.)</p><p>They wait in silence for a little while longer, then finally the large metal door in front of them swings open with a creak, revealing two figures. The first looks like a young girl - red-haired, a strange black blob floating by her shoulder. She looks relatively normal. </p><p>But the second looks much odder. Almost inhumanly tall, blond hair, skin as disturbingly white as pasty chalk. </p><p>“Creasion-san,” breathes the blond demon, staring right at Sion. </p><p>And Sion blinks in surprise.</p>
<hr/><p>The young girl - who apparently isn’t a young girl at all, but in fact an old woman - leads them to a nearby room before heading right back out. </p><p>The room isn’t quite as nice as the sitting room Alba had shown him to just earlier, but it’s decent enough - the seats, at least, are plush and comfortable. Sion sits himself down next to Alba, while the blond demon - the Second, Demon Lord Rchimedes the Second apparently, despite the fact that there’s been no Demon Lord Rchimedes the First in this timeline - sits himself down across from them. </p><p>Then they talk. </p><p>Unfortunately, there’s not really any good news. </p><p>“Yes, I’m afraid I still have little idea how to make a Mana Maker,” the Second says apologetically. He waves at his forehead. “As you can see, I still don’t have one. We’ve been researching the best we can, but to no avail. The only ones who knew how was Lord Rchimedes… and you, of course, Creasion-san.”</p><p>Sion clicks his tongue. “So I need a Mana Maker to restore my memories, but I need my memories to make a Mana Maker.”</p><p>“We still don’t know for sure that mana is the key,” Alba stubbornly insists. </p><p>“It’s the best lead we have, and I intend to follow through with it,” Sion says irritably. </p><p>“It’s not a bad theory,” the Second says with a nod. “I’d be glad to help you the best I can, Creasion-san. We’ve managed to recreate quite a few books and documents on magic over the years - perhaps reading through them will help you remember something?”</p><p>“Thanks. I can start now,” says Sion, because he <em>is</em> aware that the time he can spend safely in the Demon World is limited.</p><p>The Second looks a little surprised at the rush though. “Oh. Well, of course. I’d be glad to lead you to our library.” He stands himself up from his chair. “Lord Alba, I’ll have Februar escort you back to your wing.”</p><p>“Yes, I underst-“</p><p>“-I’d rather keep ‘Lord Alba’ with me,” Sion cuts in smoothly. </p><p>Twin pairs of red eyes blink at him in confusion. </p><p>Sion just sneers. “Why do I need to travel alone through a castle filled with demons? Demon Lord, come with me.”</p><p>“...by Demon Lord, you mean Lord Alba?” the Second asks. </p><p>“Who else?” Sion says, voice cutting and look derisive. </p><p>The Second flinches back a little. A troubled expression floats up onto his face. “Even if he stays with you, Creasion-san, I’m not sure…”</p><p>For whatever reason, it seems as though the Second holds him in high esteem, even with all his past memories gone. Conversely, the demon appears to hold some distaste for Alba - presumably due to his part in transforming the world. </p><p>In that case-</p><p>“Then it ain’t possible for me to look into things,” Sion says with a shrug. He turns back to a still-confused Alba, then, smiling brightly, takes his hand in his own. “I’m beginning to get a little hungry, Demon Lord. Shall we leave for dinner?”</p><p>Alba blinks in surprise. “What…?”</p><p>But before Sion can stand them up to walk out the door, the Second sighs and holds up a hand. </p><p>“Very well, Creasion-san,” the Second says wryly. “You win. I suppose if I supervise, it should be fine.”</p><p>“Good to hear,” Sion says brusquely. </p><p>“I suppose with or without your memories, love is hard to erase,” the Second continues, and Sion drops Alba’s hand like a hot potato, flushing bright red. </p><p>“Where did nonsense like that come from?” he mutters irritably. </p><p>The Second just smiles, then gestures for them to follow.</p>
<hr/><p>Alba hadn’t mentioned what their exact relationship had been in the old world. </p><p>That being said, his face had gone soft whenever he spoke of ‘Ros’. He had briefly mentioned that Ros had stayed over in Alba’s cell sometimes, on their tutoring nights and otherwise. </p><p>(And he had called Sion his everything, had said he loved him more than the world.)</p><p>Those factors, combined with the feelings of affection within him, the certainty that Alba was a necessary aspect of his happiness, were enough for Sion to come to a conclusion or two. </p><p>But that conclusion applied only to the old world. </p><p>‘Love’ wasn’t a word Sion was willing to use for what he felt, no matter what his heart tried to push on him. Affection, care... he could accept that much. Love, however, was a step too far, for a man he cared for only out of memories he no longer had. </p><p>And yet, as he watches this man, this poor Demon Lord imprisoned in a gilded cage for crimes he may not have committed…</p><p>(He feels his affection growing, and he’s not sure if he can make it stop.)</p>
<hr/><p>Sion doesn’t believe the library room in the castle is that large as libraries go, though admittedly, he hasn’t really seen a library before. At least not in this life. </p><p>The magic section alone should only take a day or two to go through in its entirety, which is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because it’ll be less work to investigate. </p><p>(A curse, because of the lack of information to be found.)</p><p>The Second has food brought over for them before they dive into the books, and while it isn’t quite as revolutionary as Alba’s sweets, it’s still quite good after he gets past his initial caution. </p><p>He spends the evening reading through books and papers, Alba by his side. It’s slow going, unfortunately - many of the books assume knowledge he just doesn’t have, and despite all of their hopes, his moments of clarity are fleeting and brief. </p><p>Eventually, Sion decides to leave it for the night, and heads on back to the eastern wing with Alba. No one tries to stop or discourage him this time. </p><p>(But Alba gets frightened stares and scared squeaks as they pass by demons in the hallways, and that speaks plenty in itself.)</p><p>Alba brings him to a bedroom far more luxurious than anything he’s ever seen - bed large and soft, covered with plush blankets and fluffed pillows. </p><p>“If this is a guest bedroom,” Sion says with a snort, “I can’t imagine what yours must look like.”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t have one,” Alba says, far too casually for the horrible truth he was implying. </p><p>“Ah, I see,” Sion says, gaze smug and arrogant. “You prefer to sleep in the dungeon? I suppose you must get homesick for the prison cells…”</p><p>“No!” sputters Alba, “I just don’t need to sleep!”</p><p>“Says the one looking like they’re about to rob a bank,” Sion says with a sneer. His hand reaches up despite himself, fingers brushing over the dark bags under Alba’s eyes. He blinks, then smiles brightly. “Oh, I’m sorry! That’s just your regular face, isn’t it?”</p><p>“It is not,” Alba grumbles. He gently knocks aside Sion’s hand. “It’s fine. I have enough mana that sleep is optional.”</p><p>That isn’t true. Sion is sure of it, and not only because Alba looks perpetually tired. </p><p>(He wishes he could get these moments of clarity about something more useful.)</p><p><em>You should still sleep, </em>Sion tries to say, but he finds the words get caught in his throat. He can’t quite bring himself to say something so overtly affectionate, not when <em>you should come to bed with me</em> is threatening to sneak out right after. </p><p>So instead, he lets it go. </p><p>“If you say so, Demon Lord,” Sion says skeptically. “Good night then.”</p><p>Alba smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. </p><p>“Good night,” he says as well.</p>
<hr/><p>Sion continues his research the next day, but by the end of it, he’s more and more convinced that this was a fruitless endeavour. Some concepts are familiar, some names, some words, but it feels like the solution he’s looking for is just out of reach. As though he’s viewing things through smudged glass that he just can’t clean, despite all his efforts. </p><p>It’s looking more and more like there’s only one path left open to him to regain his memories. </p><p>But now that some time has passed, that icy calm that had settled over his mind, the one that let him say with such certainty that he’d become a demon… it’s gone. </p><p>And he’s not quite sure if it’s worth it anymore. </p><p>Was the world so bad? His family was alive and happy, Crea actually <em>had </em>a family now. Everyone was safe. </p><p>Lake, him - they may have a vague feeling that something wasn’t quite right. But Lake was satisfied enough - he managed to move past those feelings. </p><p>As for himself-</p><p>He doesn’t think it’ll be that hard to convince a lonely Demon Lord to follow him back to the Human World. </p><p>The progress that the world has lost is dismaying, but from what Alba has said, the main things that have changed between now and then are some new technologies and food. Both of which could be reintroduced to the population. </p><p>Besides, even if Sion regained his mana, even if that allowed him to regain his memories… who was to say he’d be any more successful in restoring the world to its original state? Not every spell could be undone, and even of the ones that could, plenty more couldn’t be undone over two decades after they were cast. </p><p>But a brief conversation alone with the Second changes his mind. </p><p>Alba is off in another corner of the library, looking to see if there’s books that could be useful housed in other sections, while Sion is just paging through a dull tome on demonic abilities. </p><p>Then the Second asks- “Creasion-san, are you aware of what Lord Alba did?”</p><p>Sion looks up from his book. ”What, exactly, did he do in your eyes?”</p><p>“He killed my daughters,” the Second said, giving him a small, sad smile, and any objections Sion may have had dry up in his throat. </p><p>“...You came back,” Sion says quietly, “Your daughters can as well.”</p><p>“But there’s no guarantee,” the Second says, just as quiet. “Lord Alba brought back the monsters, and brought back all of the first generation still alive a millennium later, friend or foe. Our memories remain, for reasons unknown. But there’s no guarantee our children will be the children we know.”</p><p>“Couldn’t he bring them back as well?”</p><p>“He tried,” says the Second, a touch bitter, “But it ended in failure - he created new demons instead. It seems he can’t create demons originally born of two parents.” He shrugs, just slightly. “And none of us have tried to have children ourselves just yet. So we don’t know.”</p><p>“Well,” says Sion finally, “That’s why we’re trying to fix it.”</p><p>He was forced to confront head on with what he hadn’t considered - the people who no longer existed, who would no longer exist, thanks to the world that had changed. </p><p>Trying to carve out an idyllic life with his family and Alba while forgetting about all that wasn’t something that he could do. </p><p>(And it <em>hurt </em>inside, hearing about the Second’s lost daughters. From Alba’s tale, Ros had known one of them quite well. Rchi, Demon Lord Rchimedes the Third. </p><p>It seems as though Alba isn’t the only one missing in his life.)</p><p>But thinking of his family, thinking of Demon Lord <em>Rchimedes </em>the Second, makes him realize there’s still a path they hadn’t considered. One far more appealing than demonification. </p><p>So he asks Alba, that night before he heads to bed- “Would you be able to transport me to Originia?”</p><p>“If you want,” Alba says with a bit of a frown. “Do you… want to go back?”</p><p>“What I want is to check on my father’s research,” Sion corrects, jabbing a foot hard into Alba’s ankle. “I don’t think I’m getting anywhere with the research in the Demon World.”</p><p>If Rchimedes has a vague sense of the old world like Sion, then it’s highly likely that his research is at the very least on the right path. </p><p>Sion and Lake both were taught out of Rchimedes’ lab, and they’ve played lab assistant more than once. So he’s familiar with broad swaths of Rchimedes’ research - but not the gritty details. </p><p>Maybe the details would help him find a solution. </p><p>“I’ll go back for a few weeks,” Sion says, “I’ll read through my father’s study and dig through his brain.”</p><p>(And if things go badly, if he finds no way to awaken his magic or to build a Mana Maker… if he becomes a demon and can’t return to the Human World without affecting it...</p><p>At least he’ll have those last few weeks with his family to remember fondly.)</p><p>Sion continues, “You can monitor me somehow, right? I’ll tell you when I want to meet.”</p><p>“Yeah, I usually keep an eye on you with a scrying spell,” Alba says, nodding. </p><p>“Ew. Stalker. Don’t talk to me.”</p><p>“It was to protect you!” sputters Alba, “I only started after you started journeying, okay! You kept on wandering into danger!” </p><p>“You probably watched me in the bathroom too, didn’t you?” Sion asks with a sneer. “What a complete pervert. You should be in jail.”</p><p>“I promise you I didn’t,” Alba says, voice rising into a whine. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I had a danger alert spell set up to fall back on so I could give you privacy.”</p><p>That’s a bit of a relief, honestly. Sion had been wondering for a while how much of his life Alba was watching. </p><p>(Especially at night, alone, in bed.)</p><p>“Why didn’t you rely just on that then?” Sion demands.</p><p>“That spell only alerts me after you’re already hurt, okay?”  Alba complains, “Watching you directly is safer.” Then, more quietly, he mumbles- “And is it so bad that I wanted to see you?”</p><p>Sion has a lot to say about that, starting with <em>that’s still an invasion of privacy </em>and ending with <em>but I wanted to see you too. </em></p><p>But he lets things go, because he doesn’t think he can hold back the heat rising on his face for much longer. </p><p>“Fine, whatever,” Sion says with a dismissive wave. “Just take me to Originia tomorrow.”</p>
<hr/><p>Alba had apparently retrieved Sion’s supplies from his inn room during Sion’s first night in the Demon World. So Sion puts on the odd green suit that’s apparently supposed to protect him, has Alba carry his supplies, and jumps into the gate after Alba, landing in the forests surrounding Originia. </p><p>As he changes back out of the suit and accepts his supplies from Alba, he sees the other man’s brow is furrowed. </p><p>“What is it, Demon Lord?” he asks. </p><p>“I just..” Alba bites his lip for a moment, then continues, “If you don’t find anything.”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Do you… do you really need to become a demon?” asks Alba, the words rushing out from his lips. “You could be happy here, couldn’t you? There’s no need for you to…”</p><p>“What, sacrifice myself?” Sion shoots him a wry smile. </p><p>“Yes!” Alba snaps, sounding frustrated. “I worked all this time so you wouldn’t have to, and yet…”</p><p>“Sometimes things don’t work out the way we want,” Sion says, that eerie calm settling over his mind again. “I’ll do what’s best for everyone, Demon Lord. Whether or not you support me in it.”</p><p>Alba is looking utterly wretched now, and as much as he’d rather not admit it, it pains Sion deeply to see it. </p><p>So he reaches a hand out to rest gently on Alba’s shoulder. </p><p>“If you regret the fact I need to do what I need to do,” Sion says quietly, “Then make sure you never leave my side again.”</p><p>He would’ve done what he needed to regardless of whether or not Alba was there for him. But if Alba was there, perhaps, eventually, even if he can never see his family again, his life won’t be pure misery. </p><p>Then, a small yelp escaping his lips, Sion finds himself dragged into Alba’s arms. </p><p>“I promise,” Alba says fervently. “I promise.”</p><p>Sion is tempted to make a snide joke to destroy the mood, but for once, he isn’t feeling it. </p><p>“Good,” he says quietly, and that’s that.</p>
<hr/><p>His family is overjoyed to see him again, his mother especially so, and perhaps, just perhaps, so is Sion. </p><p>“Monster hunting!” Cecily snaps, cutting down carrots on her cutting board with perhaps a little too much force. “I can’t believe you would- <em>monster hunting!</em>”</p><p>Sion is on cooking duty, so he’s helping his mother cut vegetables next to her, while the cleaning duty duo is lazing about at the dining table. </p><p>“I still can’t believe it,” exclaims Lake, eyes starry. “You have to tell us all about it!”</p><p>“I’d rather not hear about it,” Cecily says coldly, then a mutter just loud enough for Sion to hear- “And I’d rather not let you out the house again either.”</p><p>“Did you manage to gather any rare ingredients?” his father asks earnestly, ignoring the danger signs around him as always. </p><p>“That isn't what's important here!” snaps Cecily, throwing her knife towards Rchimedes. In a practiced move, he ducks - the knife embeds itself in the wall behind him, making a new hole to match the collection of them already there. </p><p>Clicking her tongue, she goes to retrieve the knife. Then, gaze still dark and knife in hand, she shoots a glare at Sion. </p><p>“You won’t do anything so dangerous ever again, will you?” Cecily asks sweetly. </p><p>“Of course,” Sion answers, because he correctly senses that any other option would get him stabbed. </p><p>“Good,” Cecily says, then they get back to making lunch. </p><p>After lunch, Sion gets right to work - and by that, he means bullying his father into letting him go through his research. </p><p>“Maybe there’ll be something useful about monsters in these piles of nonsense,” is the excuse Sion uses. “Don’t tell Mom.”</p><p>“You don’t have to be so mean!” </p><p>Sion, overall, takes things slowly. It’s been over two decades since the original spell was cast. He doubts a few more weeks would make a difference in terms of undoing it. </p><p>So he spends time with his family. He visits Lake and Crea's fledgling orchard, he helps out the villagers on their hunts. There's a baseball game planned, them against the village next door, so he heads on over with Cecily and Lake and Crea to decimate them. Rchimedes, of course, cheers from the stands. He's never been the best as baseball.</p><p>(And he watches, sitting in the stands, waiting for his turn to bat, as Lake and Crea high-five each other with bright smiles and carefree laughter. </p><p>It's a scene he's seen countless times in the past, but somehow, it makes him feel bitter now.)</p><p>At night, he sneaks off into the forest, and calls for Alba. He gives him updates on what he’s found in Rchimedes’ notes, of course, but mostly, they chat about nothing at all. It makes him feel rather smug that Alba comes so quickly at his call, after months of chasing after the man to no avail. </p><p>It's fun.</p><p>he knows it can’t continue forever. </p><p>He makes his way through Rchimedes’ notes, slowly, carefully. Maybe it’s because of his upbringing, but the content itself isn’t too hard to understand, though the chicken scratch handwriting still is. He recognizes a lot, though he doesn’t know what comes from his childhood and what comes from his other life, sealed away. </p><p>It’s not enough. </p><p>It’s just a step away from success. It feels like there’s a single puzzle piece missing, one that would connect everything together to form a solution. But Rchimedes hasn’t figured it out, and the answer doesn’t come to Sion either. </p><p>Even in the midst of his disappointment, Sion recognizes that it makes sense. If Rchimedes had gotten far enough to discover magic, then he would’ve done it already, and shown the world his success. The only chance was if the notes triggered a buried memory within him. </p><p>And they hadn’t. </p><p>So Sion resigns himself. </p><p>He stops going through the research notes, though he doesn’t inform Alba of that fact. He focuses his time now entirely on his family, and Crea. And maybe he shouldn’t separate the two, because Crea is family to him, even if Crea doesn’t feel the same.</p><p>But eventually, the time comes.</p><p>(He feels, if he stays any longer, he won’t ever want to leave.)</p>
<hr/><p>Sion sucks up his pride and any nagging feelings that he'd be rejected, and wanders over to Crea's house for the day to hang out. Thankfully, the other man welcomes him enthusiastically enough, and they spend a few hours with meaningless chatter. </p><p>(Meaningless chatter that Sion enjoys very much.)</p><p>“How’s your search for a girlfriend going?” Sion asks Crea, a touch mockingly. </p><p>“I have a house!” exclaims Crea, “That’s half the battle right there!”</p><p>“Uh huh,” Sion says snidely, but as always, Crea doesn't falter.</p><p>“I’m just glad I could move out,” continues Crea, and that’s a little confusing. </p><p>“Did your parents not want you there anymore?” </p><p>Crea shakes his head rapidly. “No! Definitely not, it’s just… it didn’t feel right, y’know? I felt guilty.”</p><p><em>It didn’t feel right </em>was an interesting revelation that Sion was certainly going to tuck away in his mind, but-</p><p>“Why guilty?” asks Sion. </p><p>“I don’t really know,” Crea says with a laugh, “But I guess I just feel like I shouldn’t burden them any longer.” He pumps a fist in the air. “That’s why I wanna go and start my own family already!”</p><p>Sion finds his tone softening, just a little. “I’m sure you’ll find someone.”</p><p>Crea deserves to find happiness. </p><p>“Thanks, Sii-tan,” Crea says, flashing him a grin. “I’m sure I will too!”</p>
<hr/><p>Sion decides to tell Cecily he’s leaving directly this time, rather than through Rchimedes. He owes her that much. </p><p>So he approaches her as she’s dusting - because a feather duster is far less lethal than a knife - and says, bravely-</p><p>“I’m going to leave again, soon.”</p><p>Cecily’s hand clenches, and the duster breaks in two. </p><p>“No,” she says coldly, “I never should’ve let you leave in the first place.”</p><p>“Mom,” Sion starts, then swallows nervously. “I don’t need your permission to leave.”</p><p>He’s never felt hesitant with anyone else. Friends, family, strangers - he was rude to both without an ounce of hesitation. </p><p>But his mother has always been the one person he couldn’t quite cross. </p><p>(He thinks, perhaps, it’s because he takes after her the most.)</p><p>So it’s not surprising that Cecily looks shocked, that her youngest son has defied her to her face for the first time in both of their lives. </p><p>Her expression twists, emotions Sion can’t quite read flickering over face. </p><p>Then she sighs. </p><p>“I always thought I’d lose you to your wife,” she says quietly. “I hadn’t expected you to leave for yourself.” Her eyes flick closed. “Just promise me you won’t put yourself in danger anymore. And come back often.”</p><p>Sion had hoped she wouldn’t ask that, but now that she has, he has no choice. </p><p>“Of course, I promise,” he lies through his teeth. </p><p>Cecily doesn’t see through the lie.</p>
<hr/><p>They have a going-away party for him again. He feels like he’s surrounded by warmth, inside and out, and while the food he’d enjoyed while in the Demon World had been heavenly-</p><p>He can’t help but feel the homecooked meals he has at home are just delicious in their own way. </p><p>Sion would prefer to set off at night, because that’s when he usually meets with Alba, but to avoid suspicion, he waits until the next morning. Then, once he’s walked far enough along the road leading away from Originia, he veers into the forest and calls out-</p><p>“Demon Lord.”</p><p>He only has to wait a few seconds before a black gate opens itself in front of him, a familiar man popping though it. </p><p>“Sion,” Alba says, quietly, unhappily. </p><p>Sion hasn’t told Alba that he hadn’t found anything, that he’s resigned himself to leaving, possibly for good. But Alba has been watching him. </p><p>There’s a good chance he’s figured that out already. </p><p>“Come on, Demon Lord,” Sion says, reaching a hand out. “Spirit me away.”</p><p>And after a moment of hesitation, Alba, taking the hand in his own, proceeds to do just as Sion asks.</p>
<hr/><p>“I’ve thought about the best way to awaken your magic,” Alba says, sitting next to him on the bed in Sion’s bedroom. </p><p>(He still hasn’t let go of Sion’s hand.)</p><p>Alba continues, “If I pour mana into you, there’s a chance you’ll awaken to it without a full transformation. If you don’t, it’s still the best way to let me regulate the mana in your body properly.”</p><p>“What would that involve?”</p><p>“I’d just need skin contact, preferably somewhere central,” says Alba, and Sion snorts. </p><p>“So like s-“</p><p>“-No!” Alba cuts in, flushing red and jerking back. “I’d just need to put my hands on you.”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“<em>Not like that,</em>” Alba says with emphasis. “Just like, on your chest maybe.”</p><p>“You’re not making this sound any better, Demon Lord,” Sion says with amusement. </p><p>Alba buries his face in his hands. </p><p>“Just- just take off your shirt,” comes the muffled voice. “And I don’t mean it in <em>that</em> way!”</p><p>Sion wants to continue teasing Alba-</p><p>(Mainly because this back-and-forth was helping him forget what he was doing.)</p><p>-but he supposes he can’t put it off forever. As requested, he shrugs off his shirt. </p><p>“Okay, I’m ready,” he says mildly, and Alba brings his hands back down to look at him. </p><p>Sion sees him swallow. Then, slowly, he brings up his hands to Sion’s chest, presses lightly. </p><p>“Tell me if it hurts,” Alba says quietly, “I’m going to start now.”</p><p>After Sion nods, Alba flicks his eyes closed and begins. </p><p>Alba’s mana pouring into him feels familiar at this point, with how many times the other man has healed him. It has a different edge to it today though - it’s still warm, still soft, but it feels a little odd as well. Ticklish, maybe, though he can’t quite describe where. </p><p>Still, it’s not a bad feeling, not at all. </p><p>Until a stinging pain stabs through his mind, and Sion cries out in pain. </p><p>Alba stems the flow of mana immediately. </p><p>“Are you alright?” he asks, voice filled with worry. </p><p>But Sion can’t respond for a while, his thoughts disjointed and confused. When he finally comes to, Alba is holding both of his hands in his own, staring into his eyes with a worried gaze from far too close. </p><p>“Disgusting!” he sputters, and jabs a right hook into Alba’s stomach. </p><p>Alba chokes and bends in two, arms wrapping around his stomach. </p><p>“I was just worried,” he grumbles- but then he smiles a little. “It’s the first time in a while that you’ve punched me in the stomach.”</p><p>Sion raises an eyebrow. “Masochist.”</p><p>“I’m not!” </p><p>“Are you even listening to yourself?” Sion asks, eyebrow still raised. </p><p>“Anyways!” Alba says, “More importantly-” the worry returns to his voice. “-are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine.” Sion waves a hand dismissively. “I just remembered some things. Not you - childhood memories.”</p><p>He scowls a little thinking of it. Running around as a child, begging their neighbours for food because his shitty father wouldn’t work… the memories he’s regained aren’t good ones. </p><p>(But for some reason, he gets the feeling that something is… odd with them. </p><p>He dismisses the feeling for now though.)</p><p>“It’s working then,” says Alba, sounding relieved. </p><p>“It seems it is,” Sion says with a smile. “Let’s continue.”</p><p>Alba, however, simply shakes his head. </p><p>“We shouldn’t push things too much in one day,” he explains. “We can start again tomorrow.”</p><p>“Alright,” Sion says reluctantly, “Then what shall we do until then?”</p><p>“I can get in touch with the Second,” Alba suggests, “I’m sure he’d let you walk around in town, if you brought along a guard.”</p><p>Sion snorts. “I knew you were a criminal, but I didn’t expect you to be breaking promises already.”</p><p>“Wh-what?” says Alba, sounding confused. </p><p>“I asked you to stay by my side, didn’t I?” Sion demands. “So, let me ask again. What shall <em>we </em>do until tomorrow?”</p><p>Alba blinks at him, in surprise that soon melts into guilt. But Sion taking Alba’s hand in his own is enough to soften that expression. </p><p>“I have some board games we can play,” offers Alba, smile small but warm. </p><p>“Then let’s play those,” says Sion, and smiles right back.</p>
<hr/><p>His memories, unfortunately, return in random order. It had been mere coincidence that the first memories he regained were of his childhood. </p><p>Sion had held out a small hope after that first day that he’d remember the process to create a Mana Maker before he reached the point of no return. But two weeks in, and the inner workings of Mana Makers are still a mystery to him. </p><p>(The cutoff point had apparently been a little before two weeks. </p><p>Alba had said that night, quietly, that if he wanted to turn back, this was his last chance. That if he didn’t turn back now, the mana would be too permeated in his body - he would have no choice but to become a monster or demon. </p><p>Sion told him to continue.)</p><p>While he has no real frame of reference to compare against, he thinks he’s regained a fair number of his memories at this point, good and bad. </p><p>He remembers planting apple trees with Crea, remembers ditching his hero to go get sweets with Rchi. </p><p>(He remembers tearing his arm off to distract an enemy with the spray of its blood, remembers killing demons with no hesitation out of the fear he’d be killed in turn.)</p><p>And of course, he remembers Alba, at least partly. </p><p>He remembers falling in love with him, and of course, he remembers the pure shame and embarrassment he’d felt when he realized his idiotic feelings. </p><p>But Sion hadn’t really stood a chance. Not against the boy who yelled such beautiful retorts for his jokes, who came back again and again no matter what Sion did, who smiled so brightly and said, <em>Isn’t this journey fun?</em></p><p>And it was, so fun, so ridiculously fun he knew that it couldn’t last. Especially after Rchi had joined them-</p><p>It hurts to think of Rchi now, hurts more than any other memory he has. </p><p>Because Crea, as much as he’s changed in this new world, still exists. He might not be Sion’s best friend any longer, he might not be quite as happy-go-lucky and blindly optimistic as before, but - maybe he would’ve always ended up that way, eventually. The Crea he knew in the past had been a teenager stuck in the body of a young adult. The Crea he knows now is heading into his late twenties. A decade separates the two, and perhaps a decade would’ve been enough for even his Crea to mature. </p><p>And Alba, of course, is still by his side despite everything. He may be more jaded now, may be a demon, may no longer sleep, but- he’s still <em>Alba, </em>his idiotic hero whose signature move is making retorts. It’s true that though he’d never show it, it makes Sion furious that he’s missed years of Alba’s life, that Alba has been forced to spend years lonely and alone, just like Sion himself had as Creasion. But he’s here now, as is Alba - so happy memories he has with him don’t feel bittersweet. </p><p>But Rchi. </p><p>Rchi is gone. She hasn’t just changed, or matured. She’s gone, along with so many others, and so it hurts to think of her now. </p><p>Pain is good though. He learned that much during his years as Creasion. Pain is motivation, pain is determination, and he’ll need both to fix the world that’s turned upside down. Though unfortunately, he has no idea how to do it just yet.</p><p>(He is, however, beginning to understand what had actually happened with every memory that returns to his mind.)</p>
<hr/><p>Alba pours mana into him at night now, right before Sion sleeps. It makes for an easier recovery to get a good night’s sleep, considering the stabbing pain that accompanies his returning memories. </p><p>So Sion, face pressed into Alba’s shoulder as he tries to parse through that night’s new memories, is in the perfect position to carry out a certain plan when Alba asks-</p><p>“What did you remember today?”</p><p>What he remembers is nothing special. More bits and pieces of his journey with Crea, of tutoring Alba. </p><p>Alba, however, doesn’t need to know the exact truth for him to lean up a little, brush his lips against an ear and murmur, teasingly-</p><p>“Sleeping with you.”</p><p>As expected, Alba immediately flushes a beautiful red. </p><p>“Wha- don’t-“ he sputters, “Don’t say it in such a misleading way! We’ve never even- we haven’t ever-”</p><p>“My my, Demon Lord, such a dirty mind,” Sion says, sneering. “Disgusting.”</p><p>Then he pushes Alba down onto the bed. </p><p>“Wait, what are you doing?” Alba starts to sputter. </p><p>“I,” Sion says sweetly, shifting them into a nicer position onto the soft pillows, “remember quite a bit of magic now.” His eyes narrow. “Including the fact that no spell can truly make up for a good night’s sleep.”</p><p>“Um…” Alba is avoiding his gaze. Sion takes the opportunity to drag plush blankets over them both. </p><p>“If I remember us sleeping together, you should have no compunctions about doing it again,” Sion says, voice bright. </p><p>“I’m not changed though…” Alba tries. </p><p>“Just use magic,” Sion says dismissively. </p><p>“Um- I’m not used to sleeping though…” Alba tries next. </p><p>“In that case, I’d be happy to carry out Plan A instead!”</p><p>Looking as though he would rather not know, Alba asks, “Plan A?”</p><p>“Knocking you unconscious!” exclaims Sion. </p><p>“Why is that Plan A?!”</p><p>“Well, I assumed that you wouldn’t listen,” Sion says with an exaggerated sigh, “But I thought it wouldn’t hurt to attempt Plan Z since the opportunity presented itself.”</p><p>“What were Plans B to- actually, I don’t wanna know,” Alba cuts himself off, grumbling. “They're all just knocking me out or something, right?! Don’t answer that.”</p><p>Alba is entirely correct, but Sion just smiles sunnily. </p><p>Sion isn’t really sure if this is enough to convince Alba to sleep. It may not be just guilt and self-penitence forcing him awake, growing those deep bags under his eyes. It may be that Alba suffers nightmares like Sion had, so long ago in a life that still wasn’t quite his own. </p><p>But Alba surprises him. After long moments of consideration, he presses himself into Sion’s chest and mumbles-</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>“Alright?” Sion echoes, and he can't help the surprise leaking in his voice.</p><p>“Yeah,” says Alba. “Alright. I’ll try sleeping.”</p><p>Sion finds his smile softening. </p><p>“Good,” he says.</p>
<hr/><p>Sion awakens the next morning to the feeling of lips pressing lightly against his forehead. </p><p>He’s never been one to find it hard to get up - when he’s awake, he’s awake. So, he simply waits for Alba to draw back, then enjoys the demon lord’s utter look of horror upon spotting that Sion’s eyes are wide open. </p><p>“Good morning, Demon Lord,” Sion says brightly. </p><p>“Ah, um.” Alba coughs. “Good morning.” He averts his gaze. “Um, since you’re awake now, I guess I’ll go see about breakfast-”</p><p>“-Do you often kiss me while I’m sleeping?” </p><p>“I- no!” Alba says fervently. “I just- I couldn’t really sleep for long, I kept on waking up- but you were clinging to me, so all I could do was stare at you, and then-” he deflates. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Sion lets Alba stew for a few moments more, because Alba’s dejected expression was so very lovely. </p><p>But then he says, quietly, seriously for once- “Well, it isn’t anything to apologize for between lovers.”</p><p>The ball is in Alba’s court now, and Sion is perfectly ready to cut his losses and run if Alba says anything he doesn’t want to hear. </p><p>Alba’s expression is… conflicted. </p><p>“Sion,” he says, finally. </p><p>“Mm?”</p><p>“You’re- I’m not the hero you knew,” Alba mumbles, “So I shouldn’t expect you to be the Ros I knew.”</p><p>“Well yes, naturally,” Sion says mildly. </p><p>He has over two decades of memories that Ros never had, memories of growing up in a loving family-</p><p>(-and ah, thinking of them was a mistake, because now he needs to push back his sorrow and try his best to forget again for now-)</p><p>-memories of never facing danger, never even running into a wild beast on a hunt. And while he’s spent a good half of his life wondering desperately why he felt as though everything was wrong wrong wrong, it would still be a lie to say his time in Originia affected nothing. </p><p>If he took a step back and examined himself clinically, he’d say the most glaring difference is that he’s gotten soft. </p><p>Ros was an alert warrior who slept fitfully - Creasion simply didn't sleep. But while Sion is still a morning person who awakens easily, he's never had any problems with getting a good night's sleep. The night terrors he knows he used to have don’t come to haunt his dreams, even now that he’s regained so many of his memories. </p><p>Over twenty years of boring peace seem to have softened the edges of his memories. </p><p>So, he’s not Ros, and he’s certainly not Creasion. He’s first and foremost Sion, because that’s who he is to almost everyone he loves. </p><p>That being said…</p><p>Sion continues, “But it isn’t as though we’re completely different people.”</p><p>Ros was a part of him, just like Creasion had been part of Ros. He may be Sion now, but it would be a lie to say that aspects of his old selves didn’t influence him even today. </p><p>Sion smiles, just slightly, and lets his hand sneak up, rest ever-so-lightly on Alba’s cheek. </p><p>“You still love me, don’t you?” he coos, and Alba flushes a bit, despite the mockery of the words. </p><p>“...Yeah,” Alba says quietly, “Always.”</p><p>And while Alba has told him that before, it still makes his heart beat a little faster, makes his face feel a little warmer, to hear another confirmation coming so softly from Alba’s mouth. </p><p>Sion, gaze gentle, says- “And I still love my toy.”</p><p>Alba chokes. “What do you mean, <em>your toy?!</em>”</p><p>“I mean exactly what I said,” Sion says brightly. “You’re a wonderful source of amusement. I can’t imagine living without the entertainment I get from playing with you.”</p><p>“Sion…” Alba whines, voice plaintive. </p><p>Sion just smiles wider. </p><p>“You may be a demon now, and you may have a ridiculous amount of mana,” he says, flitting his hand down to rest against Alba’s chest, “You may have spent years alone, and you may have added stalking to your long list of criminal offens-“</p><p>“-I told you, it was just to protect you-”</p><p>“-That’s what they all say,” Sion says mercilessly, then continues, “You may not be that naive little hero anymore, who didn’t know pain and thought everything would always turn out okay. But it doesn’t matter.”</p><p>It had been that hero that Sion had felt the first stirrings of love for… that optimism, those shining smiles- he’s always liked seeing that in someone, because it was something he sorely lacked. </p><p>But while that might’ve been the trigger for his love, it hadn’t been Alba-the-Hero - the pathetic, weak boy who tried his best to succeed nonetheless - that made him fall so thoroughly. </p><p>Sion had fallen for the boy who snapped at him angrily whenever he made his little jokes at his expense. For the boy that brought light into his life not through blind optimism or naïve cheer, but from snarky comments and whining complaints. </p><p>He loved Alba because they fit so well, in a comedy routine that perhaps, in the end, no one but them really understood. </p><p>It wasn’t as though he didn’t love Crea - and now his family - just as much in a different way. But Alba is special, even now. Hero or Demon Lord, human or demon, lonelier and sadder as he may be, Alba is still <em>Alba. </em>He still plays off so beautifully against Sion, and even when his memories were missing, it was a matter of instinct for Sion to fall back into familiar patterns. </p><p>Of course he still cared so much, even when he remembered nothing. </p><p>And now-</p><p>He presses his face into Alba’s chest, then, softly, so very softly, he murmurs-</p><p>“I still love you too.”</p><p>Sion feels Alba stiffen against him. </p><p>“Sion? What did you just say?” Alba asks, cautious hope sneaking into his voice. </p><p>But Sion does nothing but snort. As if he’d say it again. </p><p>(His face is already burning just from a few words that may not have been heard.)</p><p>He hears Alba sigh, then there’s a hand lacing through his hair, pressing him even closer against Alba’s chest. </p><p>“Okay, Sion,” Alba says, soft, indulgent. </p><p>“...Okay?” Sion echos. </p><p>“Okay,” Alba says again, then there’s lips pressing gently against his head. “We’re still lovers.”</p><p>There’s a lot Sion should be saying. Mocking the gentle treatment, teasing him for the romantic gestures. He has a reputation to maintain, especially with Alba. </p><p>(But he supposes his reputation is going to have to take the blow, because all he can bring himself to do is settle himself down in Alba’s embrace.)</p>
<hr/><p>The bags under Alba’s eyes slowly begin to fade. </p><p>Sion suspects that Alba still spends more time staring at Sion sleeping than actually sleeping himself, but there’s only so much that can be done. As Creasion, he spent years without sleep, and by the time he began living peacefully as Ros, it was difficult for him to get used to it. It would take time for Alba to get used to sleeping again, just like it had for Ros. </p><p>And it wouldn’t help if he was stuck awake at night with worry or guilt, so Sion keeps quiet about certain things while pretending he isn’t. </p><p>He misses his family still, of course he does, despite everything. </p><p>(Even Rchimedes, even with all his conflicting feelings towards the man - he still misses him, maybe most of all. Despite his suspicions and fears that grow with every memory he regains.)</p><p>That being said, he’s a little more confident now that he’ll see them again, despite his natural pessimism. Magic control has always been his strong suit - demon or not, he can’t imagine he wouldn’t be able to control whatever magic he receives. </p><p>But he still hates the idea of having a demon’s long lifespan, of outliving his family by millennia. He’s always wanted nothing more than to live a normal life, to grow old and wrinkly beside everyone he loves. </p><p>It can’t be helped though. Even if he had found another option to regain his memories, to restore the world to its rightful form, he knows - he would’ve ended up here in the end. </p><p>It’s his fault that Alba ended up like this. It was for him, all for him, that Alba had tried to revive Rchimedes, tried to defeat him afterwards - and ended up with a Mana Maker in his stomach. Sion hadn’t known it was for him, not before, but it seems Alba hadn’t realized Sion hadn’t known - because he’d told him all about it without a care in the world. </p><p>And while it still makes his chest feel warm that Alba hadn’t easily moved on from him like Ros had assumed, the part of him that’s still Creasion can’t help but play the blame game. </p><p><em>You corrupted him into this, </em>Creasion would say, <em>He saw how much you loved him, and couldn’t bear to lose it. </em></p><p>He wouldn’t be wrong. </p><p>So it wouldn’t have been right to leave Alba to live out centuries and centuries alone, and even if he puts aside the morality of it all, it would hurt too much to just let it happen. </p><p>(It hurts even thinking of the few years Alba has already spent alone without him.)</p><p>Sion becoming a demon was set in stone the moment Alba had become one himself, so despite his distaste for it, he needs to move past it already. There wasn’t anything that could’ve been done. </p><p>The truth is though, there’s another reason why he distastes the idea of becoming a demon, aside from their long lifespans. </p><p>For years, Rchimedes had mocked him for still being human, whenever he showed empathy, or kindness, or despair at the meaningless cruelties that Rchimedes carried out. To Sion, for so long, being human had been a point of pride. That even as numb as he became, as ruthless as he acted, he was still human. He wasn’t a demon, not like Rchimedes. </p><p>But then things changed. He met demons who didn’t want to kill him, kill anyone. </p><p>He met demons he could be friends with. </p><p>So he shouldn’t have these hangups, not anymore. Humans could be just as cruel as any demon, and demons as kind as any human. </p><p>He still does though. </p><p>(Because despite everything, he still can’t let go of his pride, and his pride <em>stings </em>at the idea of becoming like Rchimedes.)</p>
<hr/><p>It takes annoyingly long for Sion to regain enough knowledge to make a Mana Maker, so once he finally does, he drags Alba along and gets started right away. </p><p>Thankfully, there’s a laboratory - a rather well-stocked one even - in the eastern wing of the castle. </p><p>“I tried to figure things out here. About the world, I mean,” Alba says, quiet and somber. “I never did manage to figure anything out though.”</p><p>He’s been looking rather down since Sion asked him for a lab to get started with the Mana Maker. Sion supposes the reality of the situation is starting to hit him again. </p><p>So Sion flicks a finger into Alba’s forehead, hard. </p><p>“Ouch!” </p><p>“Stop acting so morose,” Sion tells him, “and concentrate on what we can do right now. We’ll make a Mana Maker, then I’ll figure out what to do after that.”</p><p>“But you still don’t know what happened, right?” asks Alba, frustrated. “If you’re still insisting it wasn’t time travel…”</p><p>“...I have some ideas,” says Sion finally, turning his gaze back forwards. “For now, let’s get to work.”</p>
<hr/><p>It’s hard to gauge when, exactly, he becomes a proper ‘demon’. </p><p>Humans and humanoid demons are no different biologically, at least as far as he could tell from his investigations. </p><p>(When you have to deal with demons sent out to kill you multiple times a day, you become more than desensitized enough to bring out the scalpel.)</p><p>So the difference lay in their mana, and only their mana. Demons had mana infused through their entire body, revitalizing them and slowing their aging process. Theoretically, a human with mana could do the same to slow or reverse their aging. </p><p>But the mana demons have lean towards a specific function - it isn’t pure, not like the mana of a Mana Maker, or the mana that humans could awaken to through contact with one. </p><p>So Sion had been curious whether he’d obtain a demon ‘magic’ at the end of this all, or whether he’d simply awaken his pure mana. The answer, in the end, comes when he presses a hand on the chest of a confused Alba and thinks, <em>ah. </em></p><p>Then he activates his magic. </p><p>“Ow!” Alba cries immediately. </p><p>“Demon Lord, I think I’ve discovered my magic!” Sion says brightly. </p><p>“Breaking my ribs?!”</p><p>“Don’t act so scandalized.” Sion snorts. “This is from your mana, after all.” His lips quirk up. “Did you want me to break your ribs that badly? I didn’t know you had such a rib fetish.”</p><p>“What in the world is a rib fetish?” Alba complains rather loudly, as he heals his ribs. “I wouldn’t want you to have a ridiculous power like this! Don’t put this on me!”</p><p>“Now, now, Demon Lord, there’s no need to be shy,” Sion says, voice lilting. He takes a step forward, two, then he’s bringing Alba into his arms, tight. “Just say the word, and I’ll break your ribs as much as you like.”</p><p>“Please don’t,” Alba says, sounding rather exasperated. </p><p>And yet, despite his complaints, he’s settled rather docilely in Sion’s too-tight embrace. </p><p>“Are you sure?” Sion asks cheerfully, then casts his magic once again. </p><p>“<em>Sion!</em>”</p>
<hr/><p>Time moves a little slower in the Demon World. Sion doesn’t know how long it’s been exactly since he’s arrived, but he’d estimate it to be around two months - and longer still back home. </p><p>(His family might be getting worried by now, after months of no contact.)</p><p>One night, after some weeks of working on the Mana Maker together, Sion waits for Alba to fall asleep next to him. Then, carefully, he makes his way out of bed-</p><p>“Sion?”</p><p>-Dammit. </p><p>Alba was a light sleeper now, just like he had been. He supposes it couldn’t be helped. </p><p>Sion aims a sneer towards Alba and says, voice dripping with derision, “I’m going to the washroom. Don’t tell me you want to <em>watch</em>?”</p><p>“O-of course not!” sputters Alba, then closes his eyes and settles back into the bed. Though, he probably wouldn’t actually fall back asleep until Sion returned. </p><p>This wasn’t the most ideal situation, but Sion has no choice but to make the best of it. </p><p>Sion runs through the large, empty hallways, making his way to his destination. </p><p>The laboratory. </p><p>He slips through the doors, makes his way to the workstation he’d been using, then retrieves a small, glass cylinder. And by prodding it with just a little bit of his mana, a blue flame flickers to light within it. He had finished the Mana Maker that afternoon, though he kept it a secret from Alba. </p><p>Popping open the cylinder, he grabs the flame and flicks it onto his head, feeling a familiar power spread within him as it attaches itself against his hair.</p><p>Sion had been worried that things might be too different now that he was a demon, but it seems it would be just fine. </p><p>He checks, briefly, whether there’s any tracking or monitoring spells on him. It seems he’s clean though - he supposes that Alba hadn’t felt the need, or simply hadn’t wanted to risk external spells affecting his research. </p><p>He would throw up a mana-suppressing barrier, but they’re in the Demon World, and sensing random bursts of mana is common. It would be safer just to go for it. </p><p>So, he flicks open a black gate in front of him, and steps through.</p>
<hr/><p>It was the middle of the night in the Demon World, but the sun is just beginning to set in Originia. </p><p>Casting an invisibility spell over himself, he makes his way to his home, stepping past any villagers he passes by. When he walks into the entranceway, there’s no one there, thankfully. Sion doesn’t want to have to pretend he isn't there to his own family.</p><p>Pace brisk, he walks his way to Rchimedes’ study and slams open the door. As expected, Rchimedes is stting at his desk, nose stuck in his books, at least at first - the sound of the door slamming open makes him jerk up and glance back in confusion. </p><p>He doesn’t have much time to react any more than that, however, because in the next moment, Sion has closed the distance and clenched a hand around his throat. </p><p>“Rchimedes,” he says coldly, then, shoving them both through a gate, transports them both deep in the forest nearby. He slams Rchimedes’ head against a tree mercilessly.</p><p>Sion smiles, but there’s no warmth to it. “You haven’t changed.”</p><p>Rchimedes’ eyes are wide, shocked, but he isn’t saying anything - choked noises are coming from his throat, but-</p><p>Ah. Sion loosens his grip around the man’s throat, just a little. </p><p>“You-” Rchimedes stammers out, voice hoarse. “Creasion?”</p><p>And that name, that name that he shouldn't have known, is enough to confirm all of his suspicions. </p><p>“How could you do this?” Sion hisses. “You- you-”</p><p>His fury is making it difficult to even talk. Hand clenching tighter, his nails dig into Rchimedes’ throat, blood beginning to drip down. But he forces himself to take a breath, and calm himself, just a bit. </p><p>“You,” Sion says, voice icy cold, “You erased the lives of the entire world. And for what?”</p><p>“How do you have a Mana Maker?” Rchimedes just asks, sounding confused. “I erased the last step of my research. You shouldn’t have been able to recreate it.”</p><p>“I remembered how,” snaps Sion. </p><p>“But you couldn’t have remembered, not unless you had-“ Rchimedes cuts himself off, eyes widening in realization. “Oh my, Sii-tan.”</p><p>“Shut up,” hisses Sion. “I’m asking the questions.”</p><p>"I suppose it was forced on you?" Rchimedes says nonchalantly, “That hero friend of yours is the Demon Lord now, hm? Well, it's convenient for me. One less person in our family to demonify-"</p><p>“Answer my questions, or I’ll kill you,” Sion says sweetly. “You’re not in Crea’s body anymore. I won’t hesitate.”</p><p>Rchimedes laughs. “Come on, Sii-tan, let’s not be ridiculous-“</p><p>“How many of your demons have I killed, Rchimedes?”</p><p>The man must finally see something dangerous in Sion’s murderous gaze, because he acquiesces, paling visibly. </p><p>“Okay, okay,” whines Rchimedes, “No need to be hasty. Honestly! What did you want to know?”</p><p>“How do we turn things back to normal?” </p><p>Rchimedes just snorts. “You know as well as I do that it’s impossible.” He yelps as Sion’s glare intensifies, but he just double-downs. “What’s impossible is impossible! You know that!”</p><p>“There must be a way,” snaps Sion. </p><p>“If there is, I’d love to hear it,” Rchimedes grumbles. “You know what happened, don’t you?”</p><p>Sion grits his teeth. He does, but he’d still hoped…</p><p>“Give it up,” Rchimedes advises. “It isn’t as though this is a bad world!”</p><p>“For <em>you.</em>”</p><p>“For you too! And others!” insists Rchimedes, raising his hands in the air. “Crea-kun has parents now, you know!”</p><p>That little line just makes Sion see red. </p><p>“You really have no shame,” he hisses. </p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“He has parents,” Sion says, cold, “But they’re certainly not <em>his</em> parents.”</p><p>“Ah, yes, well.” Rchimedes shrugs. “You win some, you lose some.”</p><p>“Do you even know who they were, before?” demands Sion. </p><p>“Of course not,” Rchimedes says, rolling his eyes. “I just directed your friend’s magic a little. What happened after, well- it was all based on his subconscious. What he thought the world was like, a thousand years back.”</p><p>“You-”</p><p>Rchimedes just shakes his head. </p><p>“Give it up,“ he repeats, “It can’t be reversed.”</p>
<hr/><p>Sion had begun to piece together what had happened fairly early on. Because even with only a few memories, he could see very clearly-</p><p>The villagers he knew in the Originia of his past didn’t exist in the Originia of the present. </p><p>And it wasn’t just the villagers. All sorts of things about the world were just- <em>wrong. </em>The basic village structure itself was fine, but nothing else. They never had any fields a thousand years back - they were a hunter-gatherer village. There weren’t any big cities, no libraries as grand as the ones that existed in Studian. </p><p>The final straw had been the King. </p><p>He’s seen portraits of the royal family before, here and there in the bigger cities. So he knows enough to recognize them-</p><p>And to recognize that their King was identical to the King of a thousand years in the future. </p><p>It would be impossible to turn the clock of the entire world back a thousand years. The landscapes themselves, certainly - with enough mana it would be possible. But you can only revive a living being within the first few moments of their death - bringing back a population a thousand years dead is not within the realm of possibility. </p><p>Altering the memories of an entire population, however, would be possible. </p><p>Make everyone think they lived a thousand years back. Construct a mock Originia, transport a village there, make them believe they were born and raised there. De-age Sion, Lake, Crea… Make the villagers believe that Rchimedes’ family was always with them, make a married couple believe that Crea was their child and always had been. </p><p>It would be extremely difficult if done purposefully. But it would also be essentially impossible to do in a completely unconscious, uncontrolled backlash. There needed to be some direction, direction by someone who was intimately familiar with casting large-scale spells. </p><p>It was obvious who must’ve done it. </p><p>Alba’s mana must‘ve grown to uncontrollable levels when he’d seen Sion dead and gone - the Mana Maker that Alba has is powered by negative emotions, after all. If he had just calmed down, he would’ve realized that it wasn’t too late to revive him. And maybe Alba would’ve, eventually, if it hadn’t been for Rchimedes drawing near, near enough to see the opportunity. </p><p>Obviously he had though , and the rest was history. </p><p>Sion can maybe think of a way to reverse the spell, if the reversal was done immediately. It would be difficult, to restore the original memories of each and every person when the original spell had no doubt randomly modified their minds to match the “new” era, but with enough careful tweaking… perhaps it could’ve been done. Though even that would’ve been a long shot. </p><p>But it’s been over two decades. </p><p>There was almost no chance any large-scale spell could detect the decades-old mana traces in the minds of every person in the world, and reverse the modifications accurately. And that was assuming there were even any mana traces left to detect. </p><p>Even if they managed to figure out a way to do it - again, it’s been over two decades. People have lived, died, married, divorced- Sion doesn’t know if it’d really be the right thing to do, to erase two decades of history, even if it came from a mistake. </p><p>Still, he had hoped that maybe Rchimedes had a solution. As the one who had clearly been the one to cause this travesty - Sion had hoped that maybe, just maybe, Rchimedes knew something he didn’t. </p><p>But he doubts Rchimedes is lying, not about this, and not when Sion can't think of a thing to fix it either.</p><p>His last hope has just crumbled into dust.</p>
<hr/><p>Sion lets go of Rchimedes’ neck, lets the man crash into the ground in a rather unceremonious manner, then collapses onto the ground himself. </p><p>He laughs bitterly. “So there really is no way to reverse it. No way to bring ba-“</p><p>Cutting himself off, Sion frowns. </p><p>Alba’s backlash… it shouldn’t have reached the Demon World. And even if it had, it shouldn’t have destroyed it. </p><p>So then-</p><p>“What happened to the Demon World?” Sion demands. </p><p>“Oh.” Rchimedes says, massaging his bruised throat mournfully. Sion doesn’t feel a single bit of guilt. “I dispersed anything magical - I thought they might cause problems, and there was more than enough mana floating around to do it.” He pouts. “I didn’t expect your friend to start bringing them all back…”</p><p>“Anything dispersed desires to return to its original form,” Sion breathes. </p><p>“Obviously,” says Rchimedes, “If you tried to bring together a magical being using the spell they were formed with, you’d call them back.”</p><p>The spell they were formed with. The monsters, the original demons - they were all created by one person, by Rchimedes alone. The following generations, however - they weren’t created with the same spell. They used a modified version, one meant for two people-</p><p>It should be possible. If they worked together, if they told what they knew to the denizens of the Demon World, then maybe, just maybe…</p><p>But his racing thoughts are cut off by a gate popping open in front of him.</p><p>And before he can even react, out pops a demon lord, slamming into his chest. </p><p>“Ow!” Sion cries, then scowls. “Demon Lord, why-“</p><p>“-How could you leave without saying anything?” Alba’s voice isn’t angry. It’s just- broken, and the pain in his voice is enough to make the words die in Sion’s throat. </p><p>“Demon Lord,” Sion says awkwardly. “If you could look behind you…”</p><p>While Alba still seems unhappy, as requested, he looks behind him. </p><p>The instantaneous change in his demeanour is a little frightening. His eyes narrow, his lips thin, then, voice freezing, he says-</p><p>“Rchimedes.”</p><p>...Though the threatening effect is a little ruined by the fact that they’re still clinging to each other. </p><p>“Hm,” Rchimedes says, expression unreadable. He gives them a onceover, then snorts. “Not just a friend, then.”</p><p>“That’s none of your business,” says Sion coolly. </p><p>“...I am still your father, Sion,” Rchimedes says quietly. </p><p>(Of course he is. Despite everything he’s done, in this world and the last, Sion can’t help but still love him, can’t help but want him to stay alive. </p><p>But that doesn’t mean he forgives him, and he doubts he ever will.)</p><p>Sion just ignores him. </p><p>“Demon Lord,” he says, smiling down at Alba. “Let’s go.”</p><p>It was safe to leave Rchimedes be, he figures. The man has what he wants - the perfect family he’s always wanted, Cecily and Lake both. He wouldn’t risk anything happening to them by harming others. </p><p>“But-” Alba’s eyes are confused. </p><p>“I’ll explain everything,” says Sion, “I promise.”</p><p>Alba hesitates a moment more, glancing back towards Rchimedes, who still sits silently on the forest ground. </p><p>In the end though, he gives in. </p><p>“Alright,” Alba says, and drops down both down a gate.</p>
<hr/><p>Sion explains everything, just as promised, while pressed tightly into Alba’s side. Normally he’d complain, or at least make a few snide remarks, but… he can give this much to Alba. He was in the wrong in this, after all, very much so. </p><p>Going alone was nothing but selfish. There was no logical reasoning behind the act - it would’ve made much more sense to bring along Alba as backup. He can even admit that to Alba reluctantly, when explaining his reasons - it had been pure pride.</p><p>(And the desire to be alone when confronting his father who had betrayed him twice over.)</p><p>Alba forgives him of course, almost too easily. He always does. </p><p>But he says, quietly, “When I realized you were gone, it reminded me of your death.”</p><p>And the guilt that clenches at Sion’s chest is more than painful enough to make up for the easy forgiveness. </p><p>“I...” the words get caught in his throat, because he hates the very idea of saying this, but somehow, through gritted teeth, he manages to choke out- “...apologize. I was wrong.”</p><p>Alba stares at him in shock at first, but the reluctant apology is well worth it when he’s rewarded with a blinding smile. </p><p>“Just don’t do it again,” Alba says, pressing Sion tighter into his side. “You were the one to ask me to stay by your side, right?”</p><p>“I won’t,” says Sion, because he thinks he can promise that much. </p><p>“Good.” Alba sounds happy. “I’m a Demon Lord, you know. I’m more than powerful enough to protect you.”</p><p>That being said, that little comment was a little too arrogant for Sion’s tastes. </p><p>“And I,” Sion says sweetly, pinching one of Alba’s cheeks with sharp nails, “am a legendary hero. I can protect you as well, Demon Lord.”</p><p>“You <em>were </em>a legendary hero…” mutters Alba under his breath, rubbing at his cheek. But a sharp glare is enough to make Alba yelp and cough awkwardly. “I mean, right. Of course.”</p><p>Sion’s eyes are still narrowed, but he decides to let it go for now. </p><p>“Anyways,” Sion says, “Hopefully, neither of us will need that protection here on out.” He lets his head fall against Alba’s shoulder and smiles. “We can clear up the misunderstanding with the demons - we can bring back Rchi, everyone.”</p><p>“We can bring back Crea-san’s memories too, if you want,” Alba says quietly. "Lake-kun too. And we can look for others we knew too, before the world changed."</p><p>Sion stiffens, just a little. “I…”</p><p>“We might not be able to bring back the memories of the whole world,” says Alba, “But would it be so bad if we brought back the memories of the people we cared for?”</p><p>“...It’s selfish.”</p><p>He would be trying to force himself into Crea's life in a position that was now held by another. He was Crea's little brother, he wasn't his best friend, not anymore.</p><p>“If that’s why you don’t wanna do it,” Alba says stubbornly, “I’ll be the selfish one for you then.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s the way it works, Demon Lord…”</p><p>“It is now,” insists Alba.</p><p>Sion sighs. “Listen-”</p><p>“-If I were in Lake-kun’s place,” Alba cuts in. “I would want to remember you. Even if I didn’t know where you were, or if you even remembered me.” His hand caresses at Sion’s hip. “Isn’t that why you chased me for so long?”</p><p>Sion wants to argue against that, but he finds he can’t. Not against the example Alba gave, because- it wasn't wrong.</p><p>“We’ll see,” Sion says diplomatically. </p><p>“Alright,” says Alba, voice amused but indulgent, and ah-</p><p>He’s happy. </p><p>Maybe that’s wrong of him, but he’s happy. He’s happy to be by the side of someone he loves, he’s happy that they’ll be able to bring the demons back, even in this upside-down world. </p><p>(And he knows it’s wrong, he knows it’s selfish, which is why he’s suppressed the feelings for so long-</p><p>But he can’t help but be happy his family is alive and together too, even though Rchimedes doesn't deserve it.)</p><p>Not everyone would, could be happy in this world that’s changed, if they knew what they had lost. They'd do their best to fix the world, perhaps even to restore people's memories, but there's no guarantee that would be enough for everyone or anyone.</p><p>But in this moment, to Sion at the very least-</p><p>Everything feels right, and that's enough for him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you very much if you got this far! I do hope you enjoyed.</p><p>Hit us up at the <a href="https://discord.gg/EPxGygy">senyuu discord</a> if you'd like!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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